The Silmarillion as a Play
by Maelan Peredhil
Summary: A play of the Silmarillion that I wrote quite some time ago. Yes, I realize that I have left out some of the story and changed some bits slightly, but that's because I was trying to ONLY do the actualy Quenta Silmarillion. Maedhros is the main char in
1. In the Beginning

(The lights are completely dark. This represents the Void, the timeless nothing that contains Middle-Earth. This is the home of Iluvatar, who is the creator of everything, even the Valar. All action on stage, until noted, is silent; only the Speaker in the Void talks aloud.) 

Speaker in the Void: (voice comes from nowhere; suddenly. It is loud and mysterious.)   
There is no time here... always dark... always in peace... the Void, where Iluvatar, Father of All, dwells. (Iluvatar enters SR, holding a lamp; this is the only source of light. He walks to the center of the stage and pauses, facing the audience.) At the dawn of time, or time as we know it, Iluvatar created the Valar, immortal, powerful beings, his children. (The Valar come on stage from both sides, standing next to Iluvatar.) He named among them Manwë, king of the Valar... (Iluvatar guestures and mouths the name "Manwë". Manwë steps forward.) Varda, queen of the stars... (Iluvatar guestures and mouths "Varda", who steps forward.) Mandos, keeper of the dead... (Iluvatar guestures and mouths "Mandos", who steps forward.) Yavanna the joyful... (Iluvatar guestures and mouths "Yavanna", who steps forward.) And Melkor, sly and cunning... (Iluvatar guestures and mouths "Melkor", who steps forward.) He gave to the Valar wisdom and power, then told to them a theme with which they were to build a world. (Iluvatar appears to be talking to the Valar, who have all stepped forward to join Manwë, Varda, Yavanna, Mandos, and Melkor, and are now facing Iluvatar on a diagonal.) The Valar then began to sing, and started to create the history and future of the new world. (The Valar mime singing; a soaring melody, without words.) But Melkor, who had evil thoughts brewing in his mind, brought chaos and evil into the song, so that Iluvatar had to begin a new theme. (On stage, Melkor's voice appears to rise above all others until Iluvatar cuts them off. He appears to lecture Melkor, who looks rebelliously back. Iluvatar then talks to the other Valar, and the singing recommences.) Again did they sing, and again Melkor put in war and strife. (The scene repeats itself, but Iluvatar appears more angry this time.) Iluvatar then began a third theme, and this time, though Melkor tried to wreak havoc once more, he was overwhelmed and forced to sing the theme as with the other Valar. (Melkor's voice tries to rise again, but the other Valar's rise louder, and the same thing happens again. Finally Melkor, looking sulky, brings his voice down and sings with the rest of the Valar. The song ends.) The new world's pattern was set, and Iluvatar sent some of the Valar to the land at the center of the world, the land called Middle-Earth, to make what they had sung come to pass. (Iluvatar points at SL, and Manwë, Varda, Yavanna, Mandos, and Melkor exit slowly SL, following Iluvatar's direction. Iluvatar and the other Valar exit SR. From now on, the action on stage has sound. Manwë, Varda, Yavanna, Mandos, and Melkor enter SR, but they are no more than shadowy figures, for Iluvatar took the light when he exited.) 


	2. The Creation

Manwë: So this is Middle-Earth. 

Varda: It is so beautiful... and all dark... 

Yavanna: Beautiful it may be, sister, but still, to begin our work we will need light. (She hums a low note and the light turns on dimly. As she changes to a higher note, it brightens, and on her highest note it comes full on.) There! Is that not better? You can see Middle-Earth, now. 

Manwë: But what is there to see? It is all flat. 

Mandos: We must build on it, then. (He walks off SR. From off stage.) Ah, I see the Void is closed to us now. Well, I shall start building in this direction. 

Manwë: All right, Mandos. Now, Yavanna, (turns to Yavanna.) I believe some mountains over there would do nicely. What think you? (He exits SL, followed by Yavanna.)   
Yavanna: Well, maybe... (her voice fades out. Varda exits SR, leaving Melkor alone on the stage.) 

Melkor: Those petty fools! (He laughs derisively.) They will go to all that trouble to make a world which is fit for them to live in and control, when in the end, I shall rule! Yavanna, continue growing your trees; Varda, make your stars bright; may your mountains grow tall, Manwë. In the end, Melkor shall rule all! (exits SR.) 

Iluvatar: (enters SR.) And so Melkor built his evils, far underground; his deep fortress was called Utumno, and his fortress surrounding it was called Angband. And so began the corruption that Melkor sung into the song of the Valar. And Melkor waited. (exits SR. The four Valar enter- Melkor is no longer counted as one of them. Varda and Manwë are smiling, Yavanna is laughing and talking with them.) 

Yavanna: It is a joyous day that you two are married. I am sure you will be happy together. 

Varda: (smiles teasingly; she is joking.) And what of you, Yavanna? Do you fancy Mandos? 

Yavanna: (laughing.) Oh, no! He's far too serious! (She shoots a look at Mandos, who tries his best to look hurt.) Oh, Mandos! You know I- (a loud crash cuts her off.) 

Varda: What was that? 

Manwë: (draws his sword.) Melkor. 

Mandos: He is here? 

Manwë: I will find him. The rest of you, run! The palace is collapsing around us! (Yavanna, Varda, and Mandos run off SR. Manwë hollers.) Melkor! Where are you? I know you are behind this! (He runs down off the stage into the audience, searching for Melkor. He turns sharply as Melkor, who has been crouching in one on the aisles, dashes to another spot.) I see you, Melkor! Come out and fight! (Melkor flees and Manwë pursues him. They chase each other around the theatre once, then Melkor runs on stage and off SR. Manwë runs up too, but stops before exiting.) I cannot follow him in there. Not into his very stronghold. (Mandos, Yavanna, and Varda enter SL.) 

Yavanna: The palace and the region around it were destroyed, but we are unharmed. Where is Melkor? 

Manwë: In there. (He points SR.) Out of reach. 

Varda: Now what? 

Manwë: I do not think we should stay in Middle-Earth any longer. We must move elsewhere in Arda, perhaps the land across the sea we call Valinor. 

Mandos: Why can we not stay here? 

Manwë: It is soon time for the Firstborn to come into being. We should leave this realm to them, and hope Melkor will leave them alone to attack us. It is our duty to the Firstborn. 

Varda: I agree with you, Manwë. Let us leave. (She exits SR, and the other Valar follow. Lights dim and then come back on. Yavanna enters SR and kneels, facing SL. Manwë enters SR.)   
Manwë: (softly.) What are you doing, Yavanna? 

Yavanna: Shhhh... (aside from this, she ignores Manwë.) 

Manwë: Yavanna... you have been away quite often lately... too often. Please, tell me what you are doing. 

Yavanna: (Warning.) Manwë... 

Manwë: (he does not realize she is very serious, but is not trying to annoy; sincerely.) Is something troubling you? Melkor? 

Yavanna: (angrily.) No, not Melkor. You! Will you please leave me alone? 

Manwë: (realizes she is not joking.) As you wish. (He takes a step back. Varda and Mandos enter SR and stand next to Manwë.) 

Varda: (stage whisperes to Manwë.) What is she doing? 

Manwë: Shhhhh... I do not know. (They watch Yavanna, who begins to sing. As she does so, two trees begin to grow. Trees enter SL and strand before Yavanna. As she continues to sing, they flourish and light pours from their blossoms. Finally Yavanna stops singing and turns to the other Valar.) 

Manwë: What have you created, Yavanna? 

Yavanna: They are the two trees of Valinor. As long as they stand shall this land be well. (Valar exit SR. Lights dim and come back on.) 

Iluvatar: (enters SR.) And, in time, the Firstborn came to Middle-Earth. (Elves enter SL. Iluvatar exits SR.) 

Elves: (as one) We are the Firstborn of Iluvatar, also called Elves. Wise, immortal, though within a measure, and fair, we now rule this land called Middle-Earth. 


	3. To Valinor

Mandos: (enters SR.) Elves! The Valar would have council with you. Send forth your leaders to Valinor. Who will come with me? 

Ingwë: (steps forward.) I, Ingwë, will come. 

Finwë: (steps forward.) I, Finwë, will come too. 

Elwë: (steps forward along with Olwë.) Elwë... 

Olwë: and Olwë... 

Both: shall go. 

Mandos: Good. Come with me; the ships await. (exits SR; Ingwë, Elwë, Olwë, and Finwë follow. The other Elves sxit SL. The lights dim then come back on. The Valar enter SR, Mandos and the Elves who came with him enter SL.) 

Ingwë: (bows to Manwë.) It is an honor to be here, Great Lord. 

Manwë: (formally.) You have been summoned here to discuss whether you would like to have your Elves come to live in Valinor, with us. You would have our protection and could live here in peace, safe from the evil in Middle-Earth. 

Finwë: This is not a decision to be made lightly, Great Lord. All the Elves must be asked, for not all may wish to come. 

Manwë: If you wish, you may return to your Elves to consult with them. 

Olwë: That would be much appreciated, Great Lord. 

Manwë: But you have just arrived. Stay here awhile, so we may tell you more of our plans. (He walks over to Olwë and Elwë and puts an arm over each of their shoulders and leads them off SR. Ingwë and Finwë follow. The other Valar exit SL. The lights dim, the Elves enter from both sides of the stage, and the lights come back on. The Evles sit down on the stage in a semi-circle.) 

Elf1: (jumps up and points towards SR.) Look! Our lords return! (Finwë, Elwë, Olwë, and Ingwë enter SR. Elf1 sits down.) What did the Valar say, my lords? 

Finwë: Would you like to live in Valinor? 

Elf1: What, my lord? 

Elwë: The Valar have asked us to come join them in Valinor. They would give us protection and peace. They spoke of evil rising here; they say it would be wise for us to go to Valinor. But they will not force us. You may stay here if you wish. 

Elf1: I have not yet lost my love for this land; I see no evil here. We should stay, to be our own masters, with this land for us alone. I know not about the rest of you, but I will not go to Valinor! (Stands up and exits SL. Iluvatar enters SR.) 

Iluvatar: And so some of the Elves remained in Middle-Earth; they were known as Avari. The rest became divided into three groups. Tha Vanyar, under Ingwë... (Ingwë steps forward and a group of Elves gather behind him.) The Noldor, under Finwë... (Finwë steps forward and a group of Elves gather behind him.) And the Lindar, under Elwë and Olwë. (Elwë and Olwë step forward and a group of Elves join them.) 

Vanya Elf: (nods towards the Noldor.) They call themselves the Noldor, meaning the Wise. However... (he gets an amused grin on his face.) they refer to the knowledge they have gained, not their sound judgement. 

Noldo Elf: (angrily) And yet, we're still wiser than you. (He pauses, then sounds speculating.) You call yourselves the Vanyar, the Fair, and why? So far as I can make out, it is because you have no visible talents for which to give youselves a better name! (Vanya Elf yells and jumps at the Noldo Elf. They wrestle and the Noldo Elf throws the Vanya Elf to the floor.) No talents whatsoever. (Turns away.) 

Teleri Elf: We call ourselves the Lindar. It means the Singers, for that is what we love to do. 

Iluvatar: And they began the march. (Vanyar go off stage SR, into the audience.) 

Vanya Elf: We the Vanyar shall go first. See you in Valinor. (supposedly to himself, but his voice it meant to carry.) Daft Noldor... (The Noldo walk off stage, following the Vanyar.)   
Noldo Elf: The Noldor follow. (calls back to the Teleri.) You call yourselves the Lindar, but to us you are the Teleri, for the name Last-comers suits you well. You are third in the march and I have a feeling not all of you will come to Valinor. (Runs to catch up to the rest of the Noldor.) 

Teleri Elf: (The Teleri follow the Noldor.) True. Many shall stay. (By this time, the Vanyar complete a round of the theatre, and are walking back on stage SL. Mandos comes to greet them, and leands Ingwë off SR. The rest of the Vanyar follow. The same thing happens with the Noldor, except here Yavanna meets them and they are led off SL. Meanwhile, the Teleri have stopped their march.) 

Elwë: (to the other Teleri Elves.) Wait here. I will have a look around. (He walks ahead a few steps when a beautiful voice starts singing. Elwë stops and looks around and sees a maiden walking and singing a little distance away. She does not seem to notice him. He starts to run to her but she runs too, still not looking at him. Finally, as their chase takes them onto the stage, Elwë calls out.) Who are you, beautiful maiden? (Melian, the maiden, turns to smile at him.) 

Melian: I was wondering when you'd ask. I am Melian; who are you and why are you here? 

Elwë: I... I am Elwë... of the Teleri. Lindar. I and my Elves were going to Valinor. I heard you singing and followed. 

Melian: I see... if you had one wish in this world right now, what would it be? 

Elwë: (pauses, then replies.) I know not why, but... to stay with you. 

Melian: (laughs gently.) It was my song. I am a Maia, like a Vala but less powerful, and my songs have a power. But come to my realm. It is the closest to Valinor in appearence in Middle-Earth, and well-protected. (she holds out her hand to him, he takes it, and they exit SL.) 

Teleri Elf: Elwë still has not returned? 

Olwë: No... 

Teleri Elf: We need to be going... the others may have reached Valinor by now. 

Olwë: But we cannot just leave Elwë here. He may be in danger or need. 

Teleri Elf: Olwë, if you wish, we can choose a new leader, and you can stay here to search for Elwë. But we must go. 

Olwë: (sighs.) I will come. (Teleri move again, around the theatre and onto the stage. Varda comes to them from SR.) 

Varda: You took your time, Teleri Lindar. But come. As you love the sea, there is a lone island awaiting you, where you can practice you shipcraft and be lulled by the waves. (She leads them off SL. Lights dim and come back on.) 


	4. Melkor's Defeat

Silenor: (comes running in SL. He looks ready to keel over and falls to his knees as he reaches CC. Calls in a hoarse voice.) Manwë! Manwë! 

Elf2: (enters SR.) Did I hear- Silenor! I thought you had stayed in Middle-Earth!   
Silenor: Where's Manwë? 

Elf2: He's at the Ring of Doom, but why do you need him? And what's the matter with you? 

Silenor: Just get him. (He falls over onto his side, exhausted.) 

Manwë: (enters SR, making Elf2 jump and gasp in surprise.) I am here. 

Elf2: How.. how did you get here? 

Manwë: I can come and go as I please. (He walks over to Silenor, who is still lying on the floor.) What do you come here for, Silenor? 

Silenor: (raises himself on one hand.) Melkor, my lord. He is bringing trouble to the Elves of Middle-Earth. I ran all the way across Middle-Earth and over the northern passes to tell you and ask for your aid. (He flops back down.) 

Manwë: (amazed.) Silenor, I did not think that such a feat could be done save by a Vala and only then with difficulty. But calm your fears. Melkor shall be stopped. Can you come a little farther? 

Silenor: I hope so, my lord. Much farther. I must return to tell them. (He gets up and staggers a few paces towards SL, but falls to his knees again.) 

Manwë: You are in no condition to return. You will stay here. (He beckons to Elf2.) Fargond. Help him to the gardens. He will rest there. (Elf2- Fargond- helps Silenor to his feet and they exit SR.) I will get the Valar. (He exits SL. The lights dim then come back on. Manwë and the other Valar enter SR. Manwë points SL.) There it is. His fortress of Utumno. 

Varda: (steps forward.) Melkor! We bring you a challenge! 

Melkor: Why should I accept? I have the advantage at this moment. 

Varda: You would be called a coward, then? (There is no response.) 

Yavanna: (to Manwë.) Do you think he'll come? (as if in answer, Melkor enter SL.) 

Melkor: What is this challenge you bring me? 

Manwë: The Elves are under our protection. A messenger came to us saying that you were attacking them. Draw, Melkor! (He draws his sword and advances on Melkor, who draws his sword too. They begin to fight. It appears to be a very even match. Eventually, however, Manwë disarms Melkor with a clever twist of his sword. Melkor tries to run back to Utumno, but Manwë jumps in front of him and blocks him with his sword. Mandos runs up to Melkor and fastens a metal band around his wrist, and another around his other wrist. The bands are fastened by a short, thick chain. Manwë sheaths his sword and speaks to Melkor; both are panting slightly.) Now what, Melkor? Shall we treat you as you have treated the Elves you have captured? (Melkor appears calm, but a slight wincing as Manwë says this shows his real nervousness.) I know what you have done to them. Silenor told me all. I can not imagine how anyone could do that to a living thing. (He shakes his head.) I would never do that, not even to you. (Melkor visiby relaxes, though he tries not to show it.) But you will not go free, not for a long time. Now will you come, or must we drag you? (Melkor, head up high, walks off SR, past the other Valar. He does not even give the chains a thought, it appears. The Valar follow him off SR. Yavanna grabs Melkor's sword before she leaves.) 


	5. Feanor and His Creations

Iluvatar: (enters SR.) And with the chaining of Melkor, the Elves flourished. Finwë of the Noldor had a son, Fëanor. (Yavanna and Varda enter SR, talking.) 

Varda: That Fëanor is quite talented. He has already learned all that Manwë has taught him, and more. 

Yavanna: Yes... I wonder what he will create next. (They exit SL. Trees enter and stand SL. Fëanor enters SR and walks slowly towards the Trees. He looks slightly in awe.) 

Fëanor: The two trees of Valinor... the likes of which there can be none other. (He reaches his hand forward.) Their light... it is almost liquid. (He rubs his chin pensively.) I could use this light. (He brings out a small flask and holds it up, supposedly to capture the trees' light. He covers the flask and exits SL. Lights dim and come back on.) 

Manwë: (enters with Mandos.) Do you know where Fëanor is? I have not seen him recently, and I have a new book I believe he would find interesting. 

Mandos: I do not know, Manwë. Maybe Yav- (just then, Fëanor enters SL.) 

Fëanor: (is looking at something in his hands; he does not appear to see Manwë.) They turned out even more- (he looks up and sees the two Valar.) Oh, Manwë! I did not see you. (He hides what he holds in one hand behind his back; but he tries to look casual.) 

Manwë: I have been looking for you. (He notices Fëanor's strange behaviour.) What is that you have? 

Fëanor: Just a little thing I made... 

Manwë: May I see it? 

Fëanor: (hesitates; then gives in.) Here. (He opens his hand and Manwë takes what is there: three beautiful, perfect jewels. Fëanor smiles with pride as Manwë stares amazedly at the jewels.) I call them the Silamrils. They are made with the light of the two trees. That's why they glow inside. Do you like them? 

Manwë: (Holds one up for the audience to see.) They are... how long did it take you to make these? 

Fëanor: I know not, for I was deep in my task. 

Manwë: Well, it has been at least six days since you were last around. They are wonderful, Fëanor. You have more skill than I ever would have guessed. Elves ever do astound me. (He shows the jewels to Mandos, who gasps and stares. Then all three exit SL along with the Trees. Iluvatar enters SR.) 


	6. Seven Sons and Melkor Unchained

Iluvatar: And so came the Silmarils into Arda. Varda took them into her hands and hallowed them; now any being who had evil inside of them would suffer great pain at the Silmarils' touch. Fëanor began to grow overly fond of them, however, and gave sight of them to others only grudgingly. But as yet, life continued well, and Fëanor, in turn, had sons; seven of them. (exit SR. Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod, and Amras enter SL running. Maedhros, Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin have sticks which they are using as swords. Amrod and Amras are cheering them on; Maglor is watching with an amused grin. Varda and Yavanna enter SR and watch their play.) 

Caranthir: (to Celegorm.) All right. I'll be Manwë and you can be Melkor and we'll fight. 

Celegorm: (angrily.) I'm not going to be Melkor! You be him! I always have to play the evil one! (They continue in thi manner. During this scene Maedhros and Curufin are having their own little sword fight. Finally Maedhros stops, looks at the arguing Celegorm and Caranthir, shakes his head and flops down next to Maglor, who is sitting on the ground next to Amrod and Amras. Maedhros is breathing heavily, and he rolls his eyes at Maglor, nodding towards Celegorm and Curufin.) 

Maglor: (Gets up. He walks over to Celegorm and Caranthir and pulls them apart.) You two are always arguing. Now stop it. (Celegorm and Caranthir look mad but they stop fighting. Maedhros stands up.) 

Maedhros: The game of Melkor and Manwë. We have played it so often. Here, I have an idea. Come on! (He runs off SL, followed by his brothers.) 

Varda: They are skilled with their "swords" already. 

Yavanna: Yes, and so lively, too. But how much of their father's skill do they have? That is what I wonder. (She and Varda exit SR. Manwë enters SL. On his first step, Maglor also comes in SL, running. He dashes in front of Manwë, nearly tripping him, and exits lower SL.) 

Manwë: Little scamps. (He smiles, but sobers quickly.) Today is the day where Melkor may be unchained. Here they come now. (Varda, Yavanna, Mandos, and Melkor, still chained, enter SR.) Good. You have arrived when I asked. Now let us go to the Ring of Doom. (They exit SL and come back in SL again, carrying chairs, which they place in a semi-circle, leaving Melkor and Manwë standing. Manwë begins in a loud voice.) You have been brought here, Melkor, after many ages of imprisonment. Now the day has come where you will be set free, or... (he pauses.) you will remain a prisoner for many ages more. Now tell me, why should I release you? 

Melkor: I have changed, Great Lord. Long have I thought about what I have done, and have decided to change my ways. And I am sincere about this, Great Lord. (There is a silence. Melkor is beginning to look nervous, afraid his speech is not going over well. Finally Yavanna stands up.) 

Yavanna: Pretty words, Melkor. But how do we know you speak true? From your behaviour in the past, you are probably lying. I see no reason for you have changed save to win your freedom. And once you are free, why would you not go back to your old ways? 

Manwë: Well spoken, Yavanna. If it were up to me alone I would keep him in chains. But he deserves a fair chance. (He turns to Melkor.) You will go free. (Melkor smiles.) But... (Melkor's grin fades away.) you must remain in Valinor, and your every move will be watched. If you show the smallest sign of reverting to your old ways... you will feel chains around your wrists again. (He sighs.) Mandos, release him. (Mandos steps up to Melkor and removes the chain from Melkor's wrists. Melkor smiles and bows to Manwë.) 

Melkor: Thank you, Great Lord. (He sweeps past Manwë and exits SL. All Valar, save Manwë, freeze.) 

Manwë: What have I released upon Valinor... on the Elves... on the world? What terror have I unchained? (Unfreeze. All exit; Manwë SL, the other Valar, with their chairs, SR. Iluvatar enters SR.) 


	7. Melkor to Morgoth and the Swearing of th...

Iluvatar: Time went on, years passed, and Melkor lived in Valinor, in solitude. But then he began to come among the Elves. (Exits SR. Maedhros enters SR and stands CC; he sighs happily as he looks around. Entering silently SR comes Melkor. He walks quietly up behind Maedhros as he stands. Then Melkor puts a hand on Maedhros' shoulder, making Maedhros jump around to face him.) 

Maedhros: (surprised.) Who are you? 

Melkor: Does it matter who I am? (pause.) You are Maedhros, the eldest son of Fëanor, aren't you? 

Maedhros: (nods.) I... I am... (suspiciously.) But who are you? 

Melkor: (Ignores the question.) You have brothers, right? 

Maedhros: Yes... (He is starting to edge away from Melkor.) 

Melkor: And their names... 

Maedhros: (pauses. Then, deciding it's all right.) Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod, Amras... (he trails off.) 

Melkor: Five you have named, yet six there are. Who is the last? 

Maedhros: (looks ready to bolt.) Why do you wish to know so much? For the last time, who are you? 

Melkor: (smiles slowly.) I am Melkor. 

Maedhros: (looks horrified at this revelation.) Melkor? Get away from me! (starts to run off SL.) 

Melkor: Stay, Maedhros. I mean you no harm. I am simply trying to get to know the Elves. (There is a pause; Maedhros has stopped running.) Your sixth brother is Maglor. Or should I say your first brother, for he is the second eldest of the sons of Fëanor. I knew their names all along; I simply wished to see how honest you would be with me. 

Maedhros: (his face shows he does not follow this well; he is wary of Melkor.) I see... I think I will go now. (He runs off SL.) 

Melkor: (looks after Maedhros and laughs.) So that is the heir to the House of Fëanor. Naive little thing. Some day, you and I may fight a battle, young one. Or some day you may be serving me! (He laughs again and exits SR. Lights dim and come back on. Maedhros and Maglor enter SR. Maglor is walking rather quickly; Maedhros is jogging backwards in front of him.) 

Maedhros: Outwardly, he was all smiles, but underneath, I could sense malice. A lot of it. I think that was what scared me so much. So when he asked for my brothers' names, I just... didn't want to tell him yours. But he already knew, so... (he trails off and, being flustered, trips over himself and sits down hard.) Oof. (For his brother's sake, Maglor tries hard not to laugh, but has trouble doing so, as Maedhros looks rather funny. Maedhros grins at his brother; he knows it was silly of him.) Go ahead and laugh. (Maglor starts to laugh, wanders a bit, and trips over Maedhros' leg. Maedhros yelps, rubs his leg, and glares at Maglor, who has stood up and calmed down.) Oh, come on, it wasn't that funny, Maglor. (Maglor reaches down and pulls Maedhros to his feet.) 

Maglor: Sorry, but you're normally so level-headed, it's strange to see you upset. Are you hurt? 

Maedhros: A bit late to ask, but I'm fine. (he turns serious.) But I want to know what he's up to. 

Maglor: Of course you do. So would I. 

Maedhros: And not a word of this to Celegorm, Caranthir, or Curufin. They wouldn't understand and would call me a coward. 

Maglor: Why would they do that? 

Maedhros: To them, running away from something that is not openly a threat is cowardice. But the thing is, I am not so sure Melkor was not a threat. For my sake, don't tell them. 

Maglor: I will stay silent. What about Amrod and- (he cuts off, pointing SR.) Look! There comes Melkor! Run! (They take off SL and exit. Melkor enters SR.) 

Melkor: So you are frightened of me, Maedhros. I think you are not nearly frightened enough. And now you bring Maglor, the brother whose name you would keep from me, into it. That could be useful. But it is of no matter right now; I will go to see your father and his Silmarils. (He turns to exit SR but at that moment Fëanor enters SL. Melkor turns to him.) Ah, Fëanor, my friend. 

Fëanor: (in a tone that is warily indifferent; he does not like or trust Melkor, but will have conversations with him.) Melkor. 

Melkor: And how are you today? 

Fëanor: I am fine, but I wonder about my sons. Maedhros and Maglor just came dashing by as if they had the Everlasting Dark after them. Do you know why? 

Melkor: (hiding a smirk.) No doubt they were simply playing a game. 

Fëanor: (a bit sceptical.) Maybe... 

Melkor: I have heard about you skills as a craftsman, Fëanor. I was wondering if perhaps I might be able to have a glimpse of that for which you are most reknowned? 

Fëanor: (his attitude changes completely; before he was indifferent, now he is jealous and covetous.) You wish to look upon the Silmarils! No, you cannot; only my closest friends may. If that is why you wish to see me, you can go now, Melkor! (Fëanor exits SR, brushing past Melkor. Melkor looks after him angrily.) 

Melkor: So I cannot even look upon the Silmarils. Not now, at least. But some day I will, Fëanor fire-spirit. I want those jewels, even as you do! (Exits SL. The lights dim then come back on.) 

Manwë: (enters SL with Varda, both are smiling. Entering SL and dashing past them are Amrod and Amras. Manwë laughs.) This will be a lively day with those two around.   
Amras: (pauses in the middle of running and turns to Varda and Manwë.) Lord, Lady. (bows slightly.) Can we start to eat now? 

Varda: (laughs.) So proper today. Go on, Amras. You can eat. 

Amras: (yells happily and runs off SR after Amrod, who started to run again as soon as he heard Varda say yes.) Wait for me, Amrod! (they both exit SR.) 

Manwë: (to Varda; he winces slightly as he looks off SR.) That was close. At least he stopped before hitting the table. (pauses.) Come on. This will be quite a feast. (He and Varda hurry off SR. Melkor enters sinisterly SL.) 

Melkor: Yes, quite a feast. While they are all there, they will have forgotten about me. And I shall strike. (He steps forward a pace and starts to intonate in a commanding voice.) Darkness rise, darkness come, Melkor's dark will cover sun, cover the heavens, cover the skies, cover the ground before Manwë's eyes! (As he is speaking, the lights are getting dimmer and dimmer, and now, as he finishes, they are nearly out. Screams come from the feast area SR, and Melkor laughs.) My revenge will be so sweet. I go to the two trees now. (Screams fade out. Melkor walks off stage SR into the audience. He circles around and comes back on stage SL. The trees enter SL and stand.) Now for the source of light itself in this land. (He draws his sword and stares at it.) This blade is poisoned with an evil only I can make. Finally I have the occasion to use it! (He stabs the first tree, whose lights go out.) For Manwë and all the Valar! (He does the same for the other tree. The lights go out completely.) For all the Elves in Valinor! (He resheaths the blade.) One more place I must go, then back to Middle-Earth! (Sounds of runing feet. Finwë enters and faces Melkor.) 

Finwë: (unfriendly.) What are you doing here, Melkor? 

Melkor: I come for the Silmarils, Finwë! (Draws his sword and runs Finwë through. Finwë screams and falls. Melkor runs past him and off SR.) At last they are mine! (Yells.) But... they burn me! Varda, you will pay for this! (His voice rises to a frenzy.) But they are mine! It is no matter of their pain. When I return to Middle-Earth, they will be set in my iron crown and I shall rule! (his voice quiets.) Revenge is sweet. (Lights slowly come back on. Manwë, Varda, Yavanna, and Mandos are seated in a semi-circle. This is the Ring of Doom. Fëanor stands before them. The trees have exited.) 

Manwë: So the trees are dead. (There is no response, but Yavanna puts her face in her hands.) Yavanna, you say there is only one way to revive them. What is it? 

Yavanna: (lifts her head.) In only one place does the light of the trees remain. If we had the light, I could use it to bring the trees back. It would, however, destroy the thing that held the light. (she turns to Fëanor.) Will you give us the Silmarils? 

Fëanor: (angrily.) You would have me destroy the Silmarils, into which I put all of my skill, so you can regain your precious trees? Never. The Silmarils are mine! 

Manwë: (Jumps up.) Give some respect when you speak to a Vala, Elf! 

Fëanor: If that is why you want me here, then I shall go. I wish to make sure my Silmarils are still safe. (At this moment, Maglor runs in, looking scared and sad.) 

Maglor: Father...? 

Fëanor: What is it, Maglor? Hurry up; I do not have all day. 

Maglor: (nervously.) M... Maedhros sent me to tell you that... that... that Finwë has been slain and the Silamrils are gone! 

Fëanor: (Roars.) What? (He grabs Maglor by the front of his shirt and yells in his face.) You lie! Tell me it is not true! 

Manwë: Fëanor, let go of your son! (He pulls Fëanor off of Maglor.) Maglor, are you all right? (Maglor nods.) Why did Maedhros not come himself? 

Maglor: He was... (shoots a cautious look at Fëanor.) Taking care of Finwë's body. (At this, Fëanor yells.) 

Fëanor: Noooo!!!! (He runs off SL.) 

Manwë: I see... go on with you, Maglor. (Maglor runs off SL after Fëanor. Manwë returns to his seat and sighs.) So it has come to pass; the evil has returned. (Lights dim. The Valar exit, and when the lights come back on, Fëanor is standing in front of a group of Elves; among them are his seven sons.) 

Fëanor: Melkor, you shall bear that name no more. I name you Morgoth, the Black Enemy, and you shall henceforth be known by that name. And I swear this Oath to you. (He draws his sword and holds it in front of him, point up.) I swear by my sword, my honor, and my life as an Elf, never to rest until the Silmarils are returned to their rightful posessors: those of the House of Fëanor. To let no one, be he Vala, be he Elf, or be he Dwarf, bar me from fulfilling this Oath. This I swear. May the Everlasting Dark be called down upon me if I, Fëanor, break this Oath. (Ther is a silence, for this is an Oath that should not be so lightly sworn.) So who else comes to swear this Oath, to aid me in my quest? (Fingon stands up.) 

Fingon: I feel great sorrow at Finwë's death and at the theft of the Silmarils. But it does not overly concern my house, and I do not wish to swear so great an Oath for this. 

Fëanor: (a bit angrily.) Do you speak for all your house, Fingon? 

Fingon: (looks around and sees that no one disagrees.) I believe I do. (He sits down.) 

Fëanor: So the House of Fingolfin will not aid me. Will no one of my own blood swear? 

Caranthir: I will swear with you, father. (Stands up and walks over to Fëanor and stands next to him, facing the audience. Curufin stands up.) 

Curufin: And I. (stands next to Caranthir. Celegorm runs up and stands next to him.) 

Fëanor: Three of my sons will come. No others? 

Amrod: (He and Amras come and join the group.) Father, we will help you. 

Fëanor: All but my eldest sons stand by me. Why do you not swear, Maedhros? And you, Maglor? (Maedhros and Maglor look abashed. Maedhros stands up.) 

Maedhros: I should have joined you first, my father. I will swear the Oath. (stands next to his brothers. He turns to look at Maglor. Softly.) Will you not come, Maglor?   
Maglor: (sighs and rises.) I am not convinced this is right, but I will join you. (Stands next to Maedhros, who pats his brother on the arm.) 

Maedhros: (draws his sword and walks over to LC. He places his sword on the ground, hilt towards him, and kneels.) Well, if we are to do this, let it be done with! (His brothers do the same, forming a "v" shape with Maedhros at the point. In the second row are Maglor and Celegorm, then Caranthir and Curufin, then Amrod and Amras. They begin the Oath.) 

7 Sons: I swear by my sword, (they take their swords and hold them point up in front of their faces.) my honor, (they rise on one knee.) and my life as an Elf, (they stand up.) never to rest until the Silmarils are returned to their rightful posessors: those of the House of Fëanor. To let no one, be he Vala, be he Elf, or be he Dwarf, bar me from fulfilling this Oath. This I swear. May the Everlasting Dark be called down upon me, 

Maedhros: Maedhros... 

Maglor: Maglor... 

Celegorm: Celegorm... 

Caranthir: Caranthir... 

Curufin: Curufin... 

Amrod: Amrod... 

Amras: Amras... 

7 Sons: if I break this Oath. (They sheathe their swords.) 

Maglor: It is done. (He sounds slightly sad.) 

Caranthir: (sounds rather excited.) Yes. Now for Morgoth. (He walks over to Fëanor.) Father... (Fëanor motions him to be silent.) 

Maedhros: (steps back to Maglor and puts an arm around his shoulders.) Why so sad, Maglor? (He and his other brothers walk back to the other Elves. Maedhros and Maglor walk more slowly than the others.) 

Maglor: I... am just not sure we did right. 

Maedhros: What is wrong? We simply pledged to regain what is ours, fighting the source of evil while we do so. I see nothing to regret. 

Maglor: (as they sit down.) Perhaps we will come to regret it one day, brother. 

Fëanor: And now, who will come with me to Middle-Earth? (This proposal is met with silence.) 

Elf3: (Stands up. Sceptically.) Why should we leave Valinor? We have a good life here. 

Fëanor: Well, how do you expect us to fight Morgoth from Valinor? There is no way, so we must leave. But that is not all. If we go to Middle-Earth, we shall go to our freedom! 

Elf3: What are you talking about, Fëanor?   
Fëanor: The Valar say they would have us live here for our own protection. However, I have discovered they do it out of jealousy of the Elves. Afraid we would soon have more influence and power than they, they used sweetened words to coax us here, to Valinor, where they could keep their eyes on us. (Elves gasp.) Yes, we are nearly their prisoners! But now they have gone too far! The two trees of Valinor, which the Valar say were the protection of this land are dead. But in truth, they were only there for the pleasure of the Valar. And now, they want me to sacrifice the Silmarils so the trees can return to life. Elves, it is time! The Noldor must return to Middle-Earth, their rightful land! (Cheers greet this statement.) Let the proud Vanyar stay, and the peace-loving Teleri. We, the strong Noldor, shall reclaim what is ours! (Amid the cheers, Elf3 stands up.) 

Elf3: How is it that you know this, Fëanor? 

Fëanor: (The cheers stop; Fëanor looks sullenly at Elf3.) That is not for you to know. (He stalks off SR. With cries of "Off to Middle-Earth" and such, the Elves follow, all except Maedhros and Maglor. Maedhros looks deep in thought; Maglor kneels next to him.) 

Maglor: (He repeats what Maedhros asked him earlier. Softly.) Why so sad, brother? (He makes a small grin.) I'm the one who is supposed to be like that. 

Maedhros: (to no one.) Morgoth. 

Maglor: What? What about Morgoth? 

Maedhros: (only now does he look at Maglor.) It was Morgoth who told Fëanor those things. 

Maglor: (concerned.) How do you know this? 

Maedhros: I heard them talking, shortly after Morgoth had spoken to me. I did not mean to listen, but... (he trails of a bit miserably.) Fëanor worries me. 

Maglor: It will be all right. (He squeezes Maedhros around the shoulders.) 

Fëanor: (from off SR.) Maedhros! Maglor! Come! (Maedhros and Maglor run off SR. Lights dim and come back on.) 


	8. To Anger a Vala

Manwë: (from off SL. Roars.) What?! (He and Varda enter SL. Manwë and Varda both look furious, though Manwë more so.) Those fool Noldor did what? 

Varda: Left for Middle-Earth, Great Lord. Fëanor led them off with tales of us trying to hold them here. 

Manwë: Filthy liar! After all I've taught him... 

Varda: Shall we keep him here? 

Manwë: No. That would only make Fëanor's lies true. But the Valar shall have no more dealings with those Noldor. (He takes a step forward and holds his hands, palms up, in front of him.) Fëanor, I sever all links with you. No more friendship shall you have from me, nor shall your heirs, Maedhros being the first of the them. These, too, I sever from me: Maedhros, Maglor, (here he pauses and lowers his hands. Then, gently.) Poor Maglor. I wonder what it took to have him go along with their foolish plans. Was it Maedhros? Or something else? (He shakes himself and raises his hands again.) Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod and Amras. Those of the House of Fingolfin who went and their heirs. And all the other Noldor who went to Middle-Earth! (He raises his hands higher then lets them fall to his sides.) There. I do not care what they do now... so long as it does not interfere with me. 

Varda: Is that all you will do? 

Manwë: Why should I do more? He has not actually harmed anything or anyone. 

Varda: But he refused to let us have the means to heal the Trees. (There is a noticeable pause.) 

Manwë: Since the Silmarils were gone already... 

Varda: Never mind. (She walks over to Manwë and gives a small laugh.) I could almost feel sorry for Morgoth, with those Elves after him. Not just Fëanor fire-spirit, but Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin... 

Manwë: You do not mention Maedhros? 

Varda: He is young, so is inclined to be a bit rash, but I think he will lose his zeal for fulfilling the Oath. And Maglor... he is wise enough to restrain himself, and maybe even his brothers. (she sighs.) We shall have to see how this plays out. (Manwë nods. They exit SR slowly. Lights dim and come back on, revealing Fëanor and the Elves on stage.) 


	9. Feanor

Fëanor: Now on to Utumno and Angband! (The lights go out.) 

Morgoth: (from of SR.) Orcs, attack! Balrogs forward! (more figures run on and full battle is joined, though it is more from the sounds that we can tell. After a few moments, we hear voices over the fray.) Retreat! Angband forces, retreat! 

Maedhros: They're leaving! 

Maglor: Elves, last attack! Then retreat! (The battle noises slowly stop.) 

Maedhros: (when all is silent.) Bring the wounded back to the camp. Maglor, do you know where Fëanor is? 

Maglor: No, I- (a shout from Celegorm cuts him off.) 

Celegorm: He's over here! Hurry! (The lights go back on as Maedhros and Maglor run over to where Fëanor lies, wounded, LL.) 

Maglor: (kneels beside Fëanor, consternation on his face.) Father, is it bad? What can we do for you? 

Fëanor: (weakly.) Maglor, my gentle son. You are too late to help me, though that is not your fault. 

Maedhros: (kneels next to Maglor.) Are you sure there is nothing we can do? 

Fëanor: Yes, Maedhros. It was a Balrog, one too strong for me. 

Maedhros: (panicking.) But... the Elves, especially the Noldor, have learned much skill in healing... did Manwë ever teach you anything that could help you? 

Fëanor: Shut your mouth, Maedhros! You are not helping! (Maedhros flinches when his father yells.) 

Maedhros: (stammering.) S... Sorry, father. 

Maglor: (firmly, a bit angrily.) Father! Don't get mad at him! He's just trying to help you! 

Fëanor: (slowly.) Maedhros, I am sorry for having yelled at you, but my time is up, try what you will. When I am gone, rule well. You will be a fine leader of the Noldor and our house. 

Maedhros: Don't say that! (But Fëanor has turned his attention elsewhere.) 

Fëanor: Maglor... you ever were the wisest of my sons... help your brothers... advise them well. (At this, Caranthir shifts angrily.) And all of you... never forget the Oath. (Fëanor gasps, and lies still.) 

Maglor: He... he is gone. 

Maedhros: (softly.) May your spirit meet up with your father Finwë's spirit in the silent halls of Mandos. Goodbye, Fëanor. (He stands up.) 

Celegorm: So you're our new king, Maedhros. 

Maedhros: (angrily.) I do not wish to think of that. (he brushes past his brothers and off SL.) 

Celegorm: Where's he off to now? No doubt somewhere private to cry like a babe. (He sniffs disdainfully.) Don't you agree, Curufin? (There is no reply.) Curufin? (Celegorm turns and sees Curufin lying face down on the ground crying silently.) Oh, Curufin. Don't start crying like that soft-hearted... Elf... (at this point, Celegorm breaks down, sits next to his brother, and starts cring along with him. Caranthir sighs and shakes his head. He guestures to Maglor and the carry Fëanor off, leaving Curufin, Celegorm, and the bodies of the Elves slain in the battle on stage. The lights go out. Maedhros comes back on stage.) 

Maedhros: Curufin? Celegorm? Come with me. We're going back to camp. (Curufin, Celegorm, and Maedhros exit SR. All Elves exit. Morgoth's voice is heard.) 


	10. Maedhros Trapped

Morgoth: (angrily.) I would never have guessed those Elves could fight so strongly. But this could be useful. Gothmog! Come here immediately! (There is a pause.) Where is that idiot Balrog? You there, Orc. Get me the Captain of the Balrogs. (footsteps.) 

Gothmog: Here I am, my Lord. 

Morgoth: About time, Gothmog. I want you to send some Orcs to Maedhros. 

Gothmog: My Lord? 

Morgoth: You killed Fëanor. 

Gothmog: Yes... 

Morgoth: (yells, impatient with Gothmog.) So Maedhros is now their leader, so if I want to talk with the Elves I must talk to him. You idiot. Just give this to one of the Orcs in the party and tell that Orc to make sure Maedhros reads it. Now go!   
Gothmog: Yes, my Lord. (footsteps.) 

Morgoth: This may play directly into my hands. Just the way I want it. (Lights come back on. Maedhros and a group of Elves are on stage: his brothers are there, along with some other Elves. It appears to be a council; all but Maedhros are seated, in a semi-circle.) 

Maedhros: My father Fëanor is dead. I am the new overlord of the Noldor, and of the House of Fëanor. As such, I propose this to you: we attack Morgoth again. (All the Elves start to talk at once, protesting. Maedhros holds up his hands defensively.) Nay, hear me out! What worked on you may yet work on him. (The clamor stops gradually; Maedhros waits until it dies down.) He would not expect another attack so soon. Morgoth has sent emissaries to me, saying he admits defeat and would talk. And... (Maedhros pauses and smiles secretively.) he says he may bargain the return of the Silmarils. (The Elves look either excited or sceptical. Maedhros continues in a completely different tone.) I do not trust him. That is why we should attack. I say we go to the appointed place with an armed force. If he does agree to give us the Silmarils, we will not attack, but if there is treachery... (nods his head.) Who would like to speak? 

Fingon: (Stands up) Maedhros, we should not endanger ourselves for this. It is better to let the matter lie now, than receive defeat and risk all, simply for the Silmarils. 

Caranthir: (jumps up angrily, facing Fingon.) Silence, Fingon son of Fingolfin! Your house was ever full of gutless Elves! This opportunity is ripe; we should not waste it. 

Maedhros: (sharply) Watch your tongue, Caranthir. Do not insult my friends. Now take your place again. (He glares at Caranthir, who sits sullenly down. Maedhros turns to Fingon.) Why do you say no? 

Fingon: There simply is no reason to go. He will be treacherous no matter what we do, and he surely does not mean to give you the Silmarils. (He sits.) 

Maedhros: I value your council, Fingon, but I have made up my mind to go. (turns away, to the rest of the Elves.) My brothers... (Maglor, Celegorm, Curufin, Caranthir, Amrod, and Amros stand up.) You shall stay here. (Maglor looks confused, Ceregorm, Curufin, Caranthir look outraged, Amrod and Amras surprised.) I need people to defend the lands around. 

Celegorm: But the Oath... 

Maedhros: (smoothly) You will still be helping with the Silmarils, for if we do not get them, and my force is... (for the first time he falters and looks unsure.) destroyed... (he takes control of himself.) There will then still be sons of Fëanor to continue the fight. (His brothers, all except Maglor, nod, satisfied.) Go now. (They SR except Maglor.) The rest of you will come. Bring some of your men. (The Elves leave, except for Maglor, who walks over to his brother.) 

Maglor: I am coming with you. (Looks challengingly at Maedhros, as if daring him to refuse.) 

Maedhros: You, of all my brothers, are the one who I wish least to come. (Maglor looks hurt, and Maedhros softens.) No, I do not mean it like that. It is because I would protect you from harm, not because I dislike you. 

Maglor: As I would protect you. Let me come, for I fear some evil will come, is coming. If you die, I would not wish to be here alone and safe.   
Maedhros: And what if you come, and we both perish? Celegorm will rule the Noldor and our house. How long would they last then? (He laughs grimly at Maglor's look which shows his doubt as to the quality of Celegorm's would-be leadership.) I agree. See why you are needed here? 

Maglor: (defiantly.) I care not. I would rather die with you then live alone. 

Maedhros: (getting angry.) I will chain you myself rather than you come with me! (There is a stunned silence between them; Maedhros looks mad; Maglor, shocked and angry. As he ends his speech, Maedhros draws his sword threateningly.) 

Maglor: (half draws his sword; his voice is a deadly, outraged hiss.) You... 

Maedhros: (shaking himself, as if to wake up.) Brother, stop! (He sheathes his sword and puts his hands up defensively.) We are fighting Morgoth, not each other. Put your sword back! (Maglor does slowly) Maglor, I do not wish to force you, but you must stay here. The Noldor may need you. 

Maglor: (reluctantly.) It is my duty, then, to stay. (he sighs deeply.) Very well. But I shall send some of my men with you as well. And take care of yourself; I will never forgive myself if you die and I could have prevented it. (Maedhros nods and exits SR. Maglor faces the audience.) I am troubled about this. There is something going to happen; I can feel it. I would go with Maedhros, but he is right...the Noldor may need a new leader soon. (He exits SL.) 

Morgoth: (enters SL. Gothmog enters SR.) Gothmog, Captian of my Balrogs. I have a mission for you. 

Gothmog: (bows.) My Lord? 

Morgoth: Take your best Balrogs, five at least. I want you to meet that fool Maedhros at the appointed place. He decided to come, and is bringing a goodly sized number of Elves with him. (He grins evilly.) Kill them all. 

Gothmog: Yes, my Lord. (turns to leave.) 

Morgoth: Except... (Gothmog turns around.) do not hurt Maedhros. Bring him to me alive. Go now. (Gothmog exits SR. Morgoth mutters to himself.) This will be good. (He exits SL. Lights dim and come back on. Maedhros and many other Elves enter SR) 

Maedhros: So we are here. But where are the emissaries? 

Elf4: (Taps Maedhros on the shoulder.) What are those over there? (points off SL.) 

Elf5: Those do not look like emissaries to me. 

Maedhros: (loudly, squinting to see.) They...they're Balrogs! It is as Maglor feared (shouts.) Out your swords! We must fight! (He draws his sword; Elves follow suit. Gothmog and the Balrogs enter SL.) 

Gothmog: (to other Balrogs.) Remember your orders. (At this point, Maedhros, and the Elves attack. The Balrogs appear to take no notice of Maedhros, save for fending him off; they do not attack him. Their efforts are concentrated on the other Elves. Some groups of Elves and Balrogs fight their way offstage. The other Balrogs kill their Elves and form a half circle around Maedhros, facing the audience.) 

Maedhros: You attack me not? 

Gothmog: (leers at Maedhros; he knows Maedhros cannot win) Not yet, little one. Not yet. (He advances slowly on Maedhros, who tries to dodge out of the L side of the circle. The Balrog, however, pushes him back; but Maedhros manages to keep his feet.) It is a useless battle you try to fight. I suggest you give up now. 

Maedhros: I will not give in to the Dark Lord's pet! 

Gothmog: (Roars furiously) Pet! I'll teach you to watch your lying Elvish mouth! (He jumps at Maedhros, who rolls under his sword and comes up kneeling on the other side. He is panting heavily, but does not back down. However, he does not notice the Balrog bringing his sword up until it is placed across the back of his neck. Maedhros freezes. Gothmog steps forward and places his sword point at Maedhros' throat.) Drop your sword. (Maedhros glares and complies, letting his sword fall to the ground. Gothmog gestures to another Balrog who steps over to Maedhros and binds his hands behind him. Gothmog taunts Maedhros.) You are such a coward, giving in so as not to die. Move! (He points SL. Maedhros looks furious.) 

Maedhros: (does not move.) No. (Insolently, in return to Gothmog's taunt.) Kill me if you wish, but I will not go anywhere you tell me to. (Gothmog roars, pulls Maedhros up by his arm and pushes him at two Balrogs, who grab his arms and march him out. From offstage we hear him yell.) You will not win, Gothmog! My brothers will come to my aid! 

Gothmog: (not to Maedhros.) No one can help you where you are going, Elf! (Other Balrogs enter.) The others? 

Balrog: All dead, Captain. 

Gothmog: Good. We go back to Morgoth now. (Balrogs exit SL. Lights dim, then come back on.) 

Maglor: (enters with Elf6.) So it has come to pass; trickery from Morgoth and Maedhros is in his hands. It is as I feared. I must speak to my brothers about this. (turns to Elf6.) Could you send for them, please? 

Elf6: Yes, my Lord. 

Maglor: (yells, nearly.) Lord? (his voice becomes deadly quiet.) Why do you call me lord? 

Elf6: (flustered) Well, as Maedhros is gone, you are now the overlord. 

Maglor: (Yelling at Elf6 furiously.) Maedhros is not gone! He is simply... held up! Never speak of him as if he is dead again! And never say he is no longer the overlord in my hearing. Go. 

Elf6: But with where he is now, he is as good as dead... 

Maglor: Go! (Elf6 scampers out. Maglor calms himself.) Maedhros, I knew I should have come with you. Why did you not heed me? Iluvatar, let him stay alive and as unharmed as can be expected. Please. (Just then, the brothers enter SR.) 

Curufin: We are here, Maglor. 

Maglor: We must go to help Maedhros. Let us lay siege to Thangorodrim! 

Curufin: Surely you do not believe we can rescue Maedhros by siege. More than likely, Morgoth will simply toss Maedhros over a cliff, or feed him to his wolves. That is, if Maedhros is not already dead. 

Maglor: (fiercely.) I am sure that Maedhros is alive, and we must go to him. Who here disagrees? Who here would not attempt to save one of their own blood? For if any of you, the sons of Fëanor, will not come with me to Thangordrim, he shall be outcast from the House of Fëanor! So who comes? (His brothers speak as one.) 

Brothers: I will follow you! 

Maglor: We ride tomorrow. (He strides past his brothers SR and exits. The brothers follow. The lights dim then grow bright again. Maglor, his brothers, Fingon, and a few other Elves are standing SR.) 

Amrod: So now we are at Thangordrim, what do we do? 

Maglor: I will speak to Morgoth. 

Amras: You? 

Maglor: Yes. (He steps forward a pace. Yells.) Morgoth! I mean to talk with you! I know that you are aware I am here. Speak with me, or are you afraid? 

Morgoth: (From off stage SL. Loud and booming.) What do you want, Maglor son of Fëanor? 

Maglor: You know why I am here. Return Maedhros to us, or we shall besiege you in your fortress. 

Morgoth: Of-- 

Maglor: And return him alive and unhurt. 

Morgoth: Do this: leave Middle-Earth and go to Valinor. Forget this war forever and seek not to try to regain the Silmarils from me. Then shall Maedhros be returned to you. 

Maglor: (turns to the other Elves.) What now? That is a thing impossible for us to do. If we did so, and Morgoth did indeed return Maedhros to us, which I doubt he will, things would still not be well.. Either the Everlasting Dark will come on us for the breaking of the Oath, or...(he pauses.) I fear that Maedhros, blaming himself for the Noldor's return to Valinor, may take his own life. It would be like him to do so. I cannot make this choice alone. What would you have us do? 

Fingon: I think returning to Valinor would be advisable here. 

Caranthir: (angrily) Easy for you to say, son of Fingolfin. You swore no Oath! You have no brother captive! And have you heard nothing we have said? I do not believe Maedhros will be released, no matter what we do! 

Maglor: Maedhros is right- you do need to learn to hold your tongue, Caranthir. This concerns Fingon too. So do we stay, or do we go? (There is a silence. Finally Fingon speaks, softly.) 

Fingon: It appears to be death for Maedhros every way. 

Maglor: We stay then. (He covers his face with his hands and runs off SR. His brothers follow with the other Elves, except for Fingon.) 

Fingon: (looking towards SL. Calls out.) Morgoth! We will remain in Middle-Earth! 

Morgoth: Fine, then. See what price Maedhros will pay for your defiance! 

Fingon: You would not-- (softly.) Yes, you would dare. (Maglor enters SR.) 

Maglor: Fingon? 

Fingon: Yes, Maglor? 

Maglor: I cannot believe what I have just done. Condemned my own brother to torment and a painful death for jewels. Morgoth does indeed rule all. 

Fingon: No, he does not. Not while we can still battle him. 

Maglor: But have I chosen rightly? It does not seem so to me. 

Fingon: Who can tell? Maedhros, I believe, would want us to stay. 

Maglor: But would he stay if he were the one out here and I were in his place? I do not think so, and I would do the same for him . 

Fingon: As I said, we cannot tell what is right. 

Maglor: I must think on this. (Exits SR.) 

Fingon: (to no one) Maedhros, you are my friend. I cannot just leave you here; we have known each other all our lives. I must save you somehow. (looks around.) It is quite dark here. Morgoth's dark. That may be useful. (exits SR.) 


	11. Rescue

Morgoth: (Enters SR. Two guards enter SL and shove Maedhros forward. He is not bound but looks very tired. He sways on his feet though he does not fall.) Your brothers have arrived for you, Maedhros. 

Maedhros: (defiantly, though a bit weakly.) As I said they would! Prepare for a defeat, Morgoth. 

Morgoth: Brave words, but it will not be so. I have offered them this: if they return to Valinor, forsaking this war, I shall hand you over to them... although I may not, even if they go. And if they stay...(he shrugs.) 

Maedhros: (softly, and a bit fearfully.) What...what did they decide? 

Morgoth: They will stay. (Maedhros closes his eyes then opens them again.) So you shall stay too. And you shall suffer for their choice! 

Maedhros: (Panicking slightly) Could I...could I not at least talk with them?   
Morgoth: (contemptuous) Why? So you can plead for your life? 

Maedhros: No! Just to talk with them, to...(he pauses, then whispers.) to say goodbye. 

Morgoth: You may not see them. They have angered me, and you will pay the penalty of angering Morgoth. Now get out of my sight. I will deal with you later. 

Maedhros: If I am to die, can it be at least by my own hand? Give me a dagger and you shall be rid of me forever. (Runs forward a few steps) I would not turn it on anyone save myself. 

Morgoth: That would be too quick a death. Your doom shall come from me, and me only. 

Maedhros: No! (one of the Guards runs forward and grabs Maedhros' wrist. However, Maedhros twists his arm free.) Morgoth! (Both Guards run forward, seize Maedhros' wrists, and drag him backwards out of the room.) 

Morgoth: And a long doom shall it be. (He exists SR. The lighs to out so only shadows can be seen. The curtains should be drawn out about 6 feet, enough to cover what is behind it- the tower cliff of Thangorodrim, from which Maedhros is hung by a chain and steel band from his right wrist. Maedhros should stand on raised blocks with only 1 foot on it, so he appears to be hanging. Fingon enters the back of the theatre, with a sword at his side and a bow across his back. Lights come on.) 

Fingon: It is incredible I should have gotten this close to Thangorodrim without notice. But there is no one about. (Walks a few steps forward.) And all along here is impenetrable cliff. I know not where Maedhros is, and I have been here long. I fear I must give up hope. (He sighs.) Maedhros, I cannot help you. I am sorry. (He pauses.) But this cliff, which only hears cries of pain and fear, shall now hear a song. 'Tis the least I can do, for in singing of the light, I hope to push the darkness back a little. (Fingon begins to sing, a song without words. He comes to the end of a phrase and begins another, but this time, Maedhros, from behind the curtain, joins in. His voice is strained and weak, but there. Fingon hears this and stops singing. After a few notes, and listens to the voice, which finishes the phrase and stops.) Maedhros? (calls.) Maedhros! 

Maedhros: Fingon? Is that you? 

Fingon: (runs forward about 2 steps.) Yes. I've come to help you, Maedhros. But where are you? 

Maedhros: Up here. I heard you singing and knew that no one evil would sing such a song, so I joined in, hoping to be heard. 

Fingon: What do you mean, up here? Which direction? 

Maedhros: Come towards my voice. (Fingon walks a step the way he had come, then stops and walks towards the stage.) 

Fingon: I still- (he stares as the curtain draws back revealing Maedhros. He has a scratch across his cheek and the arm held by the chain is bloody. His hand clenches the chain tightly.) Oh, Maedhros! (to himself.) The cruelty of Morgoth knows no bounds. (to Maedhros again.) I will climb up to you! (looks for a place to start climbing.) 

Maedhros: You will-- 

Fingon: I can find nowhere to climb! 

Maedhros: -not be able to. It is too steep. 

Fingon: How can I help you, then? 

Maedhros: You have your bow. Use it, and send my spirit to the silent halls of Mandos, where I may rest. I can bear this no more. I am weary of life on Middle-Earth. 

Fingon: There is nothing else I can do? 

Maedhros: Nothing. Use your bow, son of Fingolfin. Use it quickly, Fingon. (He closes his eyes.) 

Fingon: Goodbye, Maedhros. (He takes his bow off his back and, stringing an imaginary arrow, draws the bow and aims at Maedhros. He mutters.) O King to whom all birds are dear, speed now this feathered shaft, and recall some pity for the Noldor in their need! 

Manwë: (enters SR.) I hear your prayer, Fingon son of Fingolfin. Stay your arrow. I send you Thorondor, the king of eagles, to aid you. Your friend may yet be spared. (exits SR, and Thorondor enters SR. He circles once on stage and comes down to Fingon, who puts his bow back in its place. Fingon then mounts Thorondor's back and Thorondor goes over to where Maedhros hangs, supposedly higher on the cliff.) 

Fingon: I may be able to help you yet, Maedhros. (Maedhros opens his eyes and gives a start as he sees Fingon on Thorondor.) 

Maedhros: I think not, but then, perhaps... Ah! (He gives a shout as Fingon jerks the chain, shaking Maedhros, but the chain does not give.) What are you doing? 

Fingon: (Gives another pull, earning a cry from Maedhros again.) Trying to pull this chain out of the cliff. But it does not give. (He blows on his hands.) 

Maedhros: Of course it does not. Morgoth himself placed it there. I saw him do it. 

Fingon: (inspects the links closely.) My sword could not cut this; they are too thick. And the band has no opening that I can see. 

Maedhros: Then you cannot rescue me. I bid you to use your bow. There is no other way to help me. 

Fingon: Wait...let me look at this... (he inspects the band again.) 

Maedhros: (yells) Fingon! (Fingon stops and looks at him.) You can do nothing with that chain. Slay me with one of your arrows, or I shall take your sword and do it myself! (there is a silence.) 

Fingon: I will not kill you, friend. There is yet more way. If the chain cannot be broken...(he pauses.) Let go of the chain, Maedhros. (Maedhros does so hesitantly.) Hold up your hand. (Maedhros complies. Fingon draws his sword. Maedhros shuts his eyes and grits his teeth. Fingon raises his sword. All lights go off.) 

Maedhros: (screams) 

Maglor: (only his voice is heard, the lights are still off.) Ah... Fingon, there you are. I was looking for you. 

Fingon: I have Maedhros. 

Maglor: What? 

Fingon: I found him hung from a cliff by his wrist; an eagle carried me up to him; and now he is back with us. 

Maglor: Where? I must see him now! 

Fingon: He is unconscious and sorely wounded. I left him in my tent. 

Maglor: I am going to him (footsteps.) Will he live? 

Fingon: I think he will; the fire of life is strong within him and it burns brightly even now. (Lights come back on. Maedhros is standing in the center of the stage. One of his hands is not visible, though his arms are at his side.) 

Maedhros: In gratitude for saving me from the trouble I had foolishly gotten myself into, I have passed the kingship of the Noldor from me to the House of Fingolfin; Fingon will rule them well. All I did for the Noldor was get many of them killed. (He draws his sword with his left hand; the sheath now hands at his right.) I am healed in my body, if not in my heart, and have learned to fight again; better than before. (He turns to face SL.) And I vow my sword shall ever be a thorn in your hands, Morgoth! A large and persistent thorn will you find it to be, too. (Turns back to the audience and sheaths his sword.) But for now, I am content to be alive and at home. (He turns to Maglor, who runs in SR. They embrace firmly and the lights dim out and come back on. Maedhros and Celegorm are walkin across stage, from SL. Maedhros is striding quickly aheard of Celegorm, who is angry. Once they reach CC, they stop.) 


	12. Settling In

Celegorm: (yelling.) You did what?! 

Maedhros: Gave the kingship of the Noldor to the House of Fingolfin. 

Celegorm: You did what?! 

Maedhros: Gave the- why do you keep repeating yourself, brother? (He turns to face Celegorm.) 

Celegorm: You have thrown away the kingship, and with it the chance for any of your brothers to rule, should you die. Now they call us the Dispossesed, because our rule is done! You are so selfish, Maedhros! 

Maedhros: No, Celegorm, it is you who are selfish. Does not Fingon deserve the throne after what he has done for me? I also believe he will rule well, and with much wisdom. You, on the other hand, only desire power over others. I feel that I made a good choice. 

Celegorm: Yes, well, I believe you didn't. 

Maedhros: I know that, Celegorm. (He pats his brother on the shoulder and walks past him off SL.) Come. We have a messenger from one of the Elven kings already in Middle-Earth to meet with. (Exits SL. Celegorm stares after him furiously.) 

Celegorm: You... You... (he trails off.) I cannot believe that that one is a Noldor. Thinking like that he should be a Teleri! (Shaking his head, he stalks off SL after Maedhros. After he exits, Maglor comes running in SR.) 

Maglor: (calling.) Maedhros! Maedhros! (Maedhros enters SL.) 

Maedhros: Yes? 

Maglor: All our brothers are gathered, and wish to discuss where we shall live. We can't stay in this camp forever. Will you come? (Maedhros nods and they exit SR. After a moment, Amrod and Amras run in, holding a map. They are followed by their brothers. Amrod unrolls the map and places it on the ground. The brothers gather around it excitedly.) 

Maedhros: All right, so- (Curufin cuts him off.) 

Curufin: (joking.) I'd like this area. (He outlines on the map.) 

Maglor: Uh... Curufin... that's all of Middle-Earth. (There is a pause.) 

Curufin: Ah... (he and Maglor start to laugh.) 

Maedhros: Will you please be serious? Maglor, you may have first pick. (Celegorm and Caranthir look mad at this.) 

Caranthir: Why should- (Maedhros cuts him off.) 

Maedhros: Peace, brother. He may have first pick because I say he may. I am still the leader of the House of Fëanor... or would you like to fight me for that? (He fingers his sword menacingly. Caranthir looks furious, but stays silent. Maedhros continues.) So, Maglor? 

Maglor: One moment. Are we sure we may have these lands? 

Maedhros: Yes, no one lives there. But we must choose from this region only. (He points.) 

Celegorm: But that place is so close to Morgoth. 

Maedhros: Exactly. That's why no one is there. (Iluvatar enters SR. Maedhros and his brothers continue talking but silently, as at the beginning of the play. Iluvatar narrates.) 

Iluvatar: And so the Elves became settled in Middle-Earth. Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin ruled together in a large region west of their brothers, and Amrod and Amras the furthest east. Maglor had a fertile land between two rivers, and Maedhros held the mountainous land Elves came to call the March of Maedhros. He held it because he wished the brunt of Morgoth's attacks should fall on him rather than his brothers, and so his lands were the closest to the Dark Lord. (Iluvatar exits SR, and action on stage resumes sound.) 

Maedhros: ... leave now. (They all rise.) And if Morgoth attacks us not, we will not attack him. (All his brothers, except Maglor, look furious. Maedhros glares at them and explaines as if to a small child.) It is folly to do otherwise; Morgoth is too strong. (Firmly, a bit threateningly.) Understood? Good. Let's go. (They exit SR and SL. Iluvatar enters SR.) 


	13. Beren and Luthien

Iluvatar: And so for many years there was peace; the Oath lay sleeping. Sleeping, until... (he exits SR. Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin enter SR, talking.) 

Caranthir: We have lain idle too long. We can attack Morgoth now, when he will not expect it. 

Curufin: That is what Maedhros did. Look what happened- 

Caranthir: (cuts him off.) So who will support us? (At this point Maedhros enters silently SR and stands UR of his brothers, who continue talking, standing CC.) Fingon will not. Maybe Finrod. All that matters is that we have enough Elves to be able to be able to make successful attack on Morgoth. I want to win, not to be defeated, not even once. Now- 

Maedhros: I beg your pardon, brothers. (His voice and scathing look belie his next statement, and the on he just said.) I could not help overhearing you. (Celegorm, Curufin, and Caranthir bunch together, as if afraid. Maedhros starts to walk towards the front of the stage; during this whole tirade he continues to circle around slowly until he is SL. His brothers turn with him, to face him.) So you wish to attack Morgoth. You are fools to do so! (His voice softens and becomes a bit more pleading, though barely.) I, too, once wished to do what you now want to. I suffered for that wish. (He waves his maimed arm at them meaningfully.) Whatever else you do, take not that path. (He reaches SL and stops.) Do not make the same mistake I did. I should be example enough. (His voice becomes more menacing as he notices his brothers draw warily back from him.) What's the matter? Are you frightened of me? (He shakes his head, as if he doubts this.) Or... are you frightened of staying still? (There is a silence, then Maedhros sighs.) There is nothing wrong with taking no action. That is all I will say. (His voice becomes pleading.) But whatever you do, do not do this. (He exits SL. His brothers recover and take a few steps forward.) 

Celegorm: (snorts and says scathingly.) Well, Morgoth has done one thing I would never have thought possible: calmed Maedhros. Since when has he been the master of wise decisions? He is not worthy of the name of the House of Fëanor. 

Caranthir: No, indeed he is hardly worthy of his own name. "Glitter of Metal". (He sniffs disdainfully.) He runs from any sword that he might actually have to use to fight an enemy. I say we do not listen to him. 

Curufin: (a bit angrily.) Brothers! I am ashamed of you, speaking that way of our kin. He is right. We should not attack Morgoth. 

Caranthir: (glares at Curufin, then nods grudgingly.) Oh, I guess I agree. But I'm so bored just sitting here doing nothing. (At this point Maedhros enters SR.) 

Maedhros: Oh, you're still here. (Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin whirl around to face him.) 

Celegorm: You again? Have you come to give us another lecture about how foolish our actions are? 

Maedhros: (smiles ruefully.) Are you mad about that? Sorry, but frightening you was the only way to get my point driven home. No, it's not about that. You remember that Elf I sent to Doriath? 

Curufin: Silenor? 

Maedhros: Yes, him. The same one who was sent to warn the Valar about Morgoth. Well, he has returned from Doriath and he says he has some news he must tell all of us. Now where are Amrod and Amras? 

Caranthir: They're not here. Can't you even keep track of who is in your own house? (Sarcasticly.) Or are there too many people visiting the great Maedhros, ruler of all, in his fortress at Himring, for you to- 

Maedhros: (cuts him off angrily.) Silence, Caranthir! Sometimes I wonder if you have ever become more than a spoiled child! I told you that for your own good; there is no reason to be so sarcastic. I most certainly do not rule all, as as you say. But you just never do know when to let matters lie. (He sighs and shakes his head.) This is a waste of my time. Maglor! Silenor! They're in here! (At his call, Maglor and Silenor enter SR.) So, what do you have to tell us, Silenor? 

Silenor: Most of this actually happened a few years ago, but I did not learn of it 'til now. Beren, a mortal Man, met and fell in love with Luthien, daughter of Thingol. 

Maglor: Thingol? 

Silenor: The King of Doriath. (He gives a small laugh.) I discovered something: Thingol is as old as I, for his real name is Elwë, and he used to be the leader of the Teleri with his brother Olwë. His strange disappearence is now accounted for. But that has no importance now. So, Beren and Luthien... (Silenor, Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin exit SR. Thingol enters SR, Beren and Luthien enter SL.) 

Thingol: Who is that with you, Luthien? 

Luthien: This, father, is the man I love; Beren. 

Beren: (bows to Thingol.) My Lord. 

Thingol: What do you want here? (He seems cold and stiff.) 

Beren: I ask leave to wed your daughter, my Lord. 

Thingol: (roars.) What? You, a mortal Man, wish to wed my daughter, the fairest of all Elves? Never! 

Luthien: Father, please! (she runs forward a few paces.) 

Thingol: Beled or whoever you are- get out at once or I shall have my Elves drag you out! 

Luthien: His name is Beren! Please, Father, let us wed! (She kneels in fron of her father pleadingly. Thingol sighs.) 

Thingol: My daughter... you are the jewel of my life; I would not lose you to this man. (He look hard at Beren, then back to Luthien.) How do you know he loves you? 

Beren: (stepping forward.) I will gladly pay any price you ask to be able to wed Luthien. 

Thingol: (slowly, though he sounds very sure of himself.) Very well... bring me one of the three Silmarils from Morgoth's crown. (Beren and Luthien gasp, horrified.) 

Luthien: But- 

Thingol: A jewel for my jewel. Go now. (Beren, with an anguished look at Luthien, bows and exits SL. Luthien rises to follow, but Thingol says firmly.) Stay, Luthien. 

Luthien: No, I will not stay! If he must so this, I will go with him! (Thingol grabs at her, but she dodges and, scrambling to her feet, she runs off SL after Beren.) 

Thingol: Luthien, no! Please do not go with him! (He makes as if to run after her, but stops after a few paces.) You will go with him to die, then. There is no way he can come back from this alive. (He shakes his head and exits SR. Beren and Luthien enter SL.) 

Beren: There is Angband. (They look at SR for a moment, then Beren turns to Luthien.) My love, you do not need to come. I have no wish for you to die as well as me. 

Luthien: (grabs Beren's hand and pulls him forward, towards SR.) Shhhh... I'll have none of that. If Morgoth is off his guard... I can help. (Beren shakes his head and follows. They exit off SR, into the audience. While they circle around to SL, slowly and cautiously, Morgoth enters SL. Gothmog enters SR. Beren and Luthien crouch warily SL.) 

Morgoth: (to Gothmog.) So, Gothmog. How comes my army? 

Gothmog: Very well, my Lord. But it would be quicker to get more Orcs if we could simply capture more Elves and... change... them. And... my Lord? (He pauses hesitantly.) 

Morgoth: Yes, Gothmog? 

Gothmog: My Lord, it would give me great pleasure to see one of the sons of Fëanor become an Orc. 

Morgoth: (laughs sourly.) Still in a snit over the one you caught escaping? That was a long time ago, Gothmog. But we shall see. Now... (pauses to think. Luthien jumps up onto the stage, silently. She turns to Beren.) 

Luthien: (quietly.) Cover your ears. (Beren complies, Luthien steps forward and begins to sing. At the sound of her voice, Morgoth and Gothmog turn around and stare at her in stupefied amazement.) Sleep you want; Sleep you shall get; lay your head down; you are caught in Sleep's net. 

Morgoth: (beginning to sway; Gothmog falls under the influence of the spell.) What are you... doing here, little... she-Elf? (He groans and falls in a heap. Luthien guestures at Beren who uncovers his ears, draws his dagger, and comes.) 

Luthien: Useful little trick my mother Melian taught me. But hurry. I do not know how long it will last. (Beren shakes his head in wonderment and kneels next to Morgoth. Using his knife, he carefully pries one of the Silmarils from Morgoth's crown.) 

Beren: There. (He pauses.) Do you think I should take them all? (But at this point, Morgoth begins to stir. Beren drops his dagger in surprise.) 

Luthien: (Begins to run off SL, into the audience.) No! (Beren follows. They circle around, back on SR, and exit SR. Morgoth wakes up fully.) 

Morgoth: Where did she go? (looks around wildly. Yells.) Gothmog! (sees Gothmog lying down still.) Gothmog, you idiot! Wake up! (crawls over to Gothmog and shakes him. Gothmog begins to wake.) Do you know who she was? 

Gothmog: No, my Lord. 

Morgoth: Then get out! (He stands up and glares at Gothmog as he crawls hurredly from the room, not even bothering to get to his feet. Morgoth walks over to where he had fallen, picks up Beren's dagger, and stares at it.) An Elf maiden and with her, by the looks of this, a man. That does not tell me enough! And what did they want? (He stops talking suddenly and puts a hand to the first Silmaril in his crown. He winces as he touches it, but nods, satisfied, feels for the second and then the third. When he finds the last missing, however, he gives an outraged roar.) They took one of my jewels! This I shall never forgive! I shall hunt them down and torture them so much that they will wish they had never heard the name of Morgoth. (He quiets.) But... I do not know who they are. (He pauses.) It is no matter. I shall wait, and sooner or later a rumor shall come to me, and then I will find them! (He exits SL. Silenor, Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin enter SR. Silenor finishes his story.) 

Silenor: So Beren and Luthien returned home and were wed. Thingol decided to have the Silmaril set into a necklace, and had some Dwarves begin crafting one. But the Dwarves grew covetous of their work and slew Thingol for it. On their escape, however, the necklace was dropped into a river and lost. And then, but a few months ago, Dior, son of Beren and Luthien, found it. It is now in his possession. 

Celegorm: (laughs delightedly.) So one of the Silmarils is out of Morgoth's foul grasp! This is good. Now we can at last regain at least one of them! (Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin start to rejoice; even Maglor joins in.) 

Maglor: (smiles.) I must admit, my heart has long desired this. (However, Maedhros stands silently to one side. Celegorm turns to him.) 

Celegorm: (friendly.) Why so quiet, Maedhros? 

Maedhros: (starts, as if coming out of another realm of thought; he gives a feeble laugh.) Oh. I... I do not know what to think. My heart rejoices; this shows Morgoth can be defeated, and by Elves, too. He is not all-powerful, as he would have us believe. Yet... (his voice takes on a darker tone.) the Oath has been awakened. Long has it lain sleeping; I have sought to avoid it. But it has returned. 

Celegorm: Do not think of it like that. So, what shall we say to Dior? 

Maedhros: (nods decicively, as if steeling himself for what will come.) Silenor, send a messenger to Dior, saying the sons of Fëanor demand the return of the Silmaril, which is rightfully theirs. Go now. (Silenor bows and departs SR. Maedhros jerks his head SL, motioning his brothers to follow.) Come. We have plans to make. (All the brothers but Maglor exit SL. Maglor stares after them, then after Silenor. He then turns his head upwards to the sky.) 

Maglor: Iluvatar, let it come to no more than a messenger. (he exits SR. Lights dim and come back on. Maedhros walks on stage from SL, with Caranthir.) 


	14. Elven Blood Spilt

Maedhros: So Dior chose to give no reply. (Caranthir nods.) I think we shall have to pay him a little visit. Tonight. (Caranthir grins, rather wickedly, and exits SR. Maedhros follows, but pauses before leaving.) Tonight. (He exits SR. Lights go out. Footsteps. Then Maedhros starts to talk, though only his voice is heard.) I'll search for the Silmaril. Celegorm, you, Caranthir, and Curufin will look for Dior. I will take some of Celegorm's servants with me. (more footsteps. A light appears, shining on Dior, who lies asleep SR. Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin, swords drawn, advance on him. They come from SL, and enter into the light. Standing in a line next to Dior, they hold their swords above him, ready to stab.) 

Caranthir: (shouts.) Dior! (Dior comes awake with a start, and freezes as he sees the swords above him.) 

Dior: (quietly, he does not sound surpried.) The sons of Fëanor. 

Caranthir: For the last time, you half-Elven fool, will you give us the Silmaril? (Dior, as Caranthir is only staring at his face, starts to reach for his sword, which is lying a little R of him. In one swift motion he grabs it and brings it around, slicing through Curufin's calves. Curufin, who is the farthest of the three from the audience, screams and falls to his knees. Celegorm and Caranthir yell and stab down, but Dior rolls into them, knocking them down and making them lose their swords. At the same time he brings his sword up and slices Curufin in the side. Curufin screams again and falls over onto his other side. Swiftly following that, Dior grabs Celegorm's sword and rams it into Celegorm's stomach. Celegorm gasps and dies. Dior finally slices Caranthir's throat. Panting, he uses his sword to pull himself up. The lights come on now. From of SL, Maedhros calls.) 

Maedhros: Celegorm? Caranthir? Where are you? (He sounds angry.) I nearly had the Silmaril, but that little Elf Elwing got away with it and some other Elves. (He enters SL and stops dead in his tracks. His mouth opens in disbelief and he stares at Dior, then his brothers' bodies, then back at Dior. Dior meets his stare evenly, not afraid. Maedhros starts talking in a deceptively quiet voice.) You are Dior. 

Dior: (acknowledges this with a small half-bow.) Which one of them are you? 

Maedhros: I am Maedhros. Those you have slain... are... were... (his voice sounds less steady now.) Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin. (His breathing is beginning to come faster and more heavily.) 

Dior: Oh? I have heard that you do not care for those three much. 

Maedhros: (starts quietly, but rises as he speaks to an angry yell.) You have murdered my blood kin; my brothers. Draw your sword, Dior! (he leaps at Dior with a yell. Before Dior can bring up his sword, Maedhros is upon him, knocking Dior's sword aside, pushing him back, and placing a foot on Dior's stomach. At last, Dior begins to look frightened. Maedhros says one last thing.) I swore an Oath long ago. To let no one, be he Vala, be he Elf, (at "Elf", he steps harder on Dior.) or be he Dwarf, bar me from fulfilling this Oath. (He stabs down through Dior's chest. Dior twitches and dies. Maedhros shoves harder on the sword one more time, then slumps tiredly, using the sword for support. Maedhros kneels down then, and pulls out the sword.) C... Celegorm? Caranthir? Curufin? I... I... I'm sorry I came too late. (He breaks down and, pulling his legs up close to him, puts his face on his arms and starts to cry silently. Then, from behind him.) 

Curufin: (weakly.) Maedhros. (Maedhros lifts his head and hurries over to sit by Curufin's head. He carefully raises Curufin to talk to him.) 

Maedhros: (disbelievingly.) Curufin? You're... you're alive! How... can... is there anything I can do for you? 

Curufin: (smiles waveringly.) You can help me no more than you can help our father. 

Maedhros: No... no, do not say that. 

Curufin: You never were willing to give up, Maedhros. Now, before I die, I would like to know one thing. 

Maedhros: Yes? 

Curufin: Is it true what Dior said? 

Maedhros: What did he say? 

Curufin: That you do not care for us three. 

Maedhros: I love all my brothers, Curufin. 

Curufin: Good. (He dies, with a last, shuddering breath.) 

Maedhros: May you go swiftly to the halls of Mandos, Curufin son of Fëanor. (He eases Curufin down, stands up and walks over to Dior. He gives the body a last, satisfied kick, and the lights go out. When they come back on, Maedhros and Maglor walk on stage from SL. Maedhros is staring straight ahead, as if stunned.) Tell me again what I have done. 

Maglor: You've tried your hardest to fulfill- 

Maedhros: (cuts him off angrily.) No, not that! I've killed my brothers, that's what. I told Dior he did it, but it is all because of me that they are gone. 

Maglor: No, Maedhros. Not all because of you. You went along with it, true, but going was their decision, not yours. 

Maedhros: Stop trying to tell me otherwise, Maglor! I know what I've done and I will take the blame. (There is a pause.) You know, Maglor, I really am a Noldo. (He sighs.) The Noldor, meaning the Wise. However, they refer to the knowledge they have gained, not their sound judgement. (He gives a small, wry laugh.) Isn't that funny. I've never thought of it that way before. But that is me. I don't think, I act, and... (he shakes his head.) then I regret it later. Our brothers, Maglor. They're dead, and I could have prevented it. Act and regret. I would like to change, but I cannot. (His voice takes on a tone of ironic surety.) And it will happen again. (He sighs again, but instead of comforting, Maglor comes next to him and slaps him. Maedhros reels backwards, hand to his face, staring at Maglor furiously.) 

Maglor: Come out of it! (Maedhros starts for him, hand balling into a fist, but Maglor grabs his wrist before he can strike.) You're babbling, Maedhros! Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curifin would not want you to spend the rest of your life mourning them. And you aren't different than how you are; you're not like... me, or anybody else, so accept it. I like you with your hot temper, so go back to it, and I don't care if you hate me forever for making you do so. I will not hesitate to beat you back to it, but it's your choice. I am going to make you mad whether you like it or not. (He lets go of Maedhros' wrist. Maedhros pauses, then shoves Maglor hard.) 

Maedhros: That was for the crack you gave me. But you are right. They would not like me to mourn. (Maglor smiles.) So now, I shall try to find where Elwing took that Silmaril. (He exits SL. Maglor shakes his head.) 

Maglor: I think it would be best if I do not tell him that I know where it is. Elwing and her husband, Eärendil, have taken it to a place by the sea where they hope to be safe from us. I hope, for their sake, that they will be. (From offstage, Maedhros suddenly shouts.) 

Maedhros: Really? So that's where they are. Thank you Silenor. (He enters SL.) Maglor, do you know what Silenor just told me? (He is grinning widely.) 

Maglor: (sighs.) I know. (Maedhros nods and exits SL. Maglor says angrily.) The next time I see Silenor I will throttle him! (He exits SR. The lights go out. A large white sheet is spread across the stage, held up to block the U half of the stage. The lights on the U half go on. A cry comes from off SL.) 

Maedhros: Eärendil! Elwing! We have come for the Silmaril! (Shadowy figures from behind the sheet rush on stage from SL. More come on from SR. A battle, seen as moving shadows, is joined. After a moment, Eärendil and Elwing come out from behind the sheet and hurry off stage into the audience SR.) 

Eärendil: Hurry, Elwing! Those sons of Fëanor are fighting like madmen! We must not wait. 

Elwing: But Eärendil, what about our sons? We can't just leave them! (Eärendil pauses and sighs.) 

Eärendil: I fear we must. If we are to escape with our lives we have to leave now. But we can come back for them. Do you have the Silmaril? (Elwing nods.) Good. My ship is down in the bay. Hurry! (They circle around the stage, back up SL, and exit SL. Maedhros comes around the curtain SR.) 

Maedhros: Where are they? (He sighs in frustration.) They've gotten away with the Silmaril! Again! (He yells across to SL) Eärendil! Give it to me! (Quieting.) Please. (The battle dies down, and the sheet is taken off. Many Elves lie dead. Maglor comes to stand next to Maedhros. He is limping slightly.) 

Maglor: I take it that they have it. 

Maedhros: (Heavily.) Yes. He sailed away on a ship. He can go to Valinor and die now, for all I care. (He sighs again.) So, who was lost this time? 

Maglor: (Cautiously.) Uh.... 

Maedhros: Well? Speak. 

Maglor: A... Amrod and Amros. 

Maedhros: (whirls around and grips Maglor's wrist; Maglor flinches.) No! Not them! Anyone but them! (calms himself, but barely.) Where are they? Take me to them! (Maglor leads Maedhros to where Amrod and Amros lie. Maedhros drops to his knees beside them.) Amrod! (He shakes his brother.) Amras! This cannot be! 

Maglor: (tries to console his brother; he kneels down next to him.) It cannot be undone, Maedhros. And it is not your fault. 

Maedhros: (sighs.) It is only us now, Maglor. The last of the sons of Fëanor. Fëanor's house has fallen. 

Maglor: No. No, it has not. 

Maedhros: I do not think I shall ever let myself love again. All those I have loved have died, because of me. (He looks at Maglor.) You should leave me, Maglor. Get as far away from me as you can. 

Maglor: Brother, I stay with you. 

Maedhros: I think I have just changed much, Maglor. You are sure you wish to stay? (Maglor nods. Maedhros smiles.) I think I will be glad to have you around, Maglor. (The lights go out. When they come back on, Maedhros and Maglor are standing on stage. A small pile of cushions is a bit left of UC, and a chair is CL, behind Maedhros, who has his sheathed sword in hand. Maglor is standing in front of Maedhros, facing him, approx. LR.) 

Maedhros: (dejectedly) We had the Silmaril in our grasp, Maglor. In our very hands! And we lost the battle, letting that dark-spawned man get away with the Silmaril. (tosses sword angrily onto pile of cushions and flops limply into the chair.) The Oath drives me, Maglor. I wish to stop it but I cannot. (sighs.) Do we at least have some prisoners from this hopeless battle? 

Maglor: Indeed we do, brother. Two. They are the very sons of Eärendil. 

Maedhros: (sits bolt upright in his chair.) His sons? That is good. Bring them to me. Now! 

Maglor: (Turns to SR) Guards! Bring Elrond and Elros to me. (Two Guards enter, herding before them Elrond and Elros, and has them bow to Maedhros.) 

Maedhros: (shocked) They are but boys! (glares at Maglor, who shrugs. Maedhros shakes his head and continues, more softly.) So you are the sons of that filthy, thieving man. Elrond and Elros. Tell me! Where has your father gone with the jewel? 

Elrond: I ... 

Maedhros: You would not know. You are only children. (Murmers to himself) Only children... (squats down in front of the two children.) You are alone in the world now. (Elrond and Elros nod sullenly. Maedhros sounds sad now.) By my own hand... (pauses.) I am sorry. I have done you a great wrong, and I wish I could undo it. I did not mean it to come to this. (Stands up.) I wish your father had just given me the Silmaril. (Sits down in the chair dispiritedly.) Go now. You are no longer prisoners. Guards, give them rooms. Nice rooms. (They turn to go.)   


Maglor: Um... Maedhros...? 

Maedhros: Guards, wait. Maglor? (looks at his brother questioningly.) 

Maglor: (speaking quietly to Maedhros.) It was my hand that wrought this misfortune on them, and I would make amends. As their parents have sailed across the ocean, mayhaps to Valinor, I would like to raise Elrond and Elros. 

Maedhros: I wish to make amends as well. You may, as long as they consent. (He turns to Elrond and Elros, speaking kindly though tentatively.) Um...my brother Maglor has requested to raise you like his own. Would you wish this? 

Elros: (defiantly.) No. I will not be raised by my kins' murderer. (He turns to leave.) 

Elrond: But... (he touches his brother on his shoulder.) Elros, wouldn't it be better to have him as a father, rather than no one? I don't want to be alone... 

Elros: (considers. Then grudgingly...) Oh, all right. Because my brother asks me to, we accept your offer, Maglor. 

Maedhros: (relieved, he smiles.) Good, then. (He sobers quickly.) I would that you had no reason to accept this offer. (He gets up from the chair and crosses to Elrond and Elros. He places a gentle hand on Elrond's shoulder, but Elrond shrugs it off. Maedhros looks slightly affronted, but continues gently.) Do not be afraid of what Maglor will be like. (Gives a small, rueful, sad smile.) He is a better Elf than I. (Looks away, down at the floor.) I must be alone. (Exits quickly SR, Guards follow.) 

Maglor: (walks over to Elrond and Elros.) I can see that you are two noble Elves, though young. (drops on his knees in front of them. Elros and Elrond look a bit surprised. ) I am so sorry for what happened, though I am as guilty as Maedhros, and my apology can do little. Please forgive me, though I will never forgive myself. I listened to Maedhros far too readily. 

Elros: (surprised) It was all Maedhros' idea? (looks vengeful.) When I see him again, I will make him beg for mercy before he dies. Such a villainous thing he did, and-- 

Maglor: I fear you do not fully understand him; I doubt even he himself does. Maedhros is troubled, and deeply so. He is normally wiser than this, but the Oath he, and admittedly, I, swore drives him onward to disaster. He wishes to forget his Oath, but he, like any sane being, fears the Everlasting Dark, for that is what we swore by. Remember too, his torment by the Dark Lord. Surely you saw he has only his left hand. He hates Morgoth the more for that, so wants the Silmarils from him, in revenge. He lusts for the Silmarils, and, having the quick tongue that he does, persuaded me to help him to finally lay hands on one. 

Elrond: What does this have to do with anything? 

Maglor: What I am trying to say is this: I believe that he has sincerely repented for what harm he has caused you. 

Elros: (skeptically.) Oh? It did not appear that way to me. 

Maglor: But I believe it is so. Maedhros often finds it hard to apologize, or to admit he is wrong, but if he does, he always means it. 

Elrond: You have great love for your brother, Maglor, though I cannot see why. I forgive you, though the harm is done. 

Maglor: And Maedhros? 

Elrond: Him, I cannot forgive. Not yet. But we shall see. 

Maglor: Let us go now. (He rises and leads the boys off SL. The lights go out, the props are removed, and the lights come back on. Iluvatar enters SR.) 


	15. The War of Wrath

Iluvatar: Time weaves ever onward... (exits. Maedhros and Maglor enter SL, talking) 

Maedhros: The Union must act, Maglor! Morgoth rises again, and his Orcs and Balrogs double in strength. There is no time left! 

Maglor: We do not have the strength or numbers, yet. Morgoth will crush us, and who knows what will happen then? He would not take kindly to us, especially to one who escaped him before. (At this, Maedhros half draws his sword, but Maglor gently guides Maedhros' hand so the sword is resheathed.) Nay, I do not mean to offend you, Maedhros. But it is true. (Maedhros sighs and lets go of his sword.) 

Maedhros: You are right. But I feel helpless, and I sense something is about to happen. 

Maglor: Only the Valar can help us now. 

Maedhros: (Disdainful, he gestures with his hand impatiently.) Pah! What do the Valar care for us? They severed their link with the Noldor when we left Valinor for Middle-Earth. They will not help. (Both Maedhros and Maglor freeze as the scene shifts elsewhere.) 

Iluvatar: (enters SR.) But it is not entirely so... (exits SR.) 

Eärendil: (enters SL, along with Elwing.) So this is Valinor, the home of the Valar. Come, Elwing. I must find them. 

Elwing: Why, though, Eärendil? Now that we are safe from that dreadful Maedhros... But he has our sons, Eärendil, our sons! (She turns towards SL, face in hands.) 

Eärendil: All for this jewel... (he reaches up to touch the Silmaril on his brow.) I go to the Valar for Middle-Earth. Morgoth indeed rises again, and the peoples will need aid. Much aid. (Turns and walks a few paces towards SR. Elwing follows. Manwë enters SR.) 

Manwë: Why have you come here, Eärendil Halfeven? For what reason do you come to Valinor? 

Eärendil: (a bit nervously.) I seek aid for Middle-Earth. The Union of Maedhros is failing, Morgoth grows in power and strength. Will the Valar please come and defend us? I beg this of you. (kneels before Manwë.) 

Manwë: The Union of Maedhros? He is one of the Noldor, Maedhros, and a son of Fëanor at that. I send no aid to the Noldorian Elves; least of all to him. We will not come. 

Eärendil: (rising) I care not for Maedhros; indeed, I hate him much, for he raided my lands for the Silmaril. 

Manwë: A Silmaril? (He sees the jewel on Earandil's brow and takes a step back) You have one. This is certainly unexpected. (Sounds slightly calculating. As Manwë reaches to touch it, Eärendil steps back warily. Manwë withdraws his hand.) Fear not, I have no wish for it. (He clears his throat.) So you have not come for Maedhros. For whom, then, are you here? 

Eärendil: For all the peoples of Middle-Earth, Great Lord. We shall all fall into the darkness and oblivion of Morgoth unless you come to our aid. Please (looks beseechingly at Manwë.) 

Manwë: We shall see. Meanwhile, you shall dwell here in comfort. I will consult with the other Valar. (pauses.) Oh... I have heard that you have a great love for sailing. Here in Valinor, your ship shall sail in the skies, if you wish it. 

Earndil: Thank you, Great Lord. (He bows and starts to exit SL, then stops and turns back to Manwë.) And, Great Lord...(He pauses and Manwë nods encouragingly.) Please hurry. (Exits SL, Manwë exits SR. Maedhros and Maglor unfreeze.) 

Maglor: I would not be so sure. They may come yet. (Maedhros snorts at this.) 

Maedhros: I doubt it. I will make my plans for war, and I will make them now. The Valar care for nothing but themselves. (He whirls around to exit SR. Maglor, however, grabs his shoulder and pulls him back, turning him so they are face-to-face.) 

Maglor: Do you truly believe that, Maedhros? (He stares hard at Maedhros, who drops his eyes and turns away.) 

Maedhros: (roughly) I do not know what I believe. What does it matter to you? (He starts to walk out, but Maglor darts around in front of him, blocking his way. Maedhros sighs.) 

Maglor: (softly) What is the matter with you, Maedhros? This is not the Elf of old. What has happened to the wise Elf who used to be? What has happened to my brother? (Maedhros flinches slightly.)   


Maedhros: (puts a hand wearily to his face before answering.) I do not know. I do not know so many things. My Oath. The Silmarils. Especially those cursed Silmarils. They haunt me, Maglor, I swear they do. I want the Silmarils, I hate the Silmarils, I must have the Silmarils. It makes me sick. But what can I do? What can I do? (He leans his head on Maglor's shoulder, and his shoulders shake as if crying.) 

Maglor: (pats Maedhros consolingly.) You have never been like this, brother. But I will see you through this. I promise. I will see you through, to the very end. (Maedhros lifts his head up.) 

Maedhros: You are more valuable to me than any Silmaril, Maglor. Or any other earthly jewel or glory. (Maglor smiles. Maedhros pats him on the shoulder and smiles back.) And I would keep you alive. Come. We make plans now. (Maglor rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Running after Maedhros, who is exiting SR, he makes feeble protests.) 

Maglor: But... (all other protests are lost under Maedhros' ideas.) 

Maedhros: We can divide the army into three groups; the first will be... (Lights dim, then come back on. The council of the Valar sits on stage, Manwë stands before them.) 

Manwë: The war is started; even as we speak the Elves and Men fight Morgoth; but they will not last long. Eärendil Halfelven has just come to Valinor, after Maedhros son of Fëanor raided his lands. He begs for us to come to the aid of Middle-Earth. What would you advise us to do? 

Yavanna: (rising) Maedhros, Maglor, and indeed, all the Noldor who left Valinor, are certainly not our friends. But would we let all the life of Middle-Earth die or become enslaved for hatred of a few? I say we go to them. (she sits.) 

Manwë: Do any here disagree? 

Varda: I think none do. 

Manwë: (sighs, as if resigned) Well, then. Go arm yourselves, and be quick about it! (But his next statement belies his outer feelings.) Maybe we shall defeat Morgoth once and for all! (all exit. The scene shifts to the battle for Middle-Earth. Maedhros has drawn sword in hand. He enters backwards, running slightly, sword raised as if to fend something off. He is closely followed by a Balrog. U to him runs Maglor, much the same, with a Balrog of his own. Two other Elves run in SR, followed by 2 more Balrogs. 

Maedhros: (to Maglor, while trying desperately to fend off the Balrog.) They are too strong! (As he speaks, one of the Balrogs on the right spears his Elf, who falls dead. He then turns his efforts on Maedhros, who already has more than he can handle with the other Balrog. Maedhros stops attacking and simply defends, now.) 

Maglor: (sees Maedhros' trouble.) Hold on, I'm coming to you! (Tries to pass the two Balrogs, which have forced Maedhros to the front of the stage, but his own Balrog prevents him. Meanwhile, one of the two Balrogs grabs Maedhros' sword and hurls it aside. The other Balrog pushes Maedhros forward, places a foot on the back of his neck, and raises his sword to stab it into Maedhros' back.) 

Maedhros: (Desperately.) Maglor! (to Balrog) Get off me you dirty, dark-spawned- (a clear blowing of a horn cuts him off. All action stops.) 

Maglor: (wonderingly) The horn of Valinor! (The Valar enter grandly.) 

Manwë: (to Balrogs) Out of my way, Balrogs! Do so, and you shall not be harmed. (Balrogs back off. Maedhros stands slowly up, brushing himself off.) 

Maedhros: Oh yes, they will! (He takes up his sword from where the Balrog threw it, and stabs the Balrog, who falls. Maedhros bows to Manwë.) Great Lord, I thank you for coming. My life is indebted to you. 

Manwë: (snorts at this) You get out of my way too. I will deal with you later, Maedhros. (He makes the name sound like an insult. The Valar follow him off SL. Maedhros stares after them in a mixture of indignation and surprise.) 

Maedhros: Well, he's friendly. (Maglor comes to stand next to him, trying not to laugh.) 

Maglor: Considering what you've done, I'm surprised he didn't have your head off your body. 

Maedhros: (shoves him playfully.) You left Valinor too; you're as much a Noldor as I. But the battle's not over yet; let's go help the Valar! (Runs off SL.) 

Maglor: (follows.) Help the Valar? More like hinder them, with you around! 

Maedhros: Oh, stop it. (Lights dim, then come back on. Morgoth sits on a fancy throne, SL, sneering at the Valar who stand before him, SR. Maedhros and Maglor run in behind the Valar. 

Morgoth: So, Manwë. My brothers and sisters finally unite again to oppose me. 

Manwë: We have reviled you, Morgoth. You are no longer one of us. 

Morgoth: Deny it as you will, bloodlines cannot be broken. (sighs and rises.) But you are too strong for me. I submit myself to you. (He draws his sword and is about to place it at Manwë's feet, then swings it at Manwë with a cry. The blade, however, merely bounces off. Morgoth looks surprised.) You are stronger than I thought, Manwë. But still... (he starts to mutter something under his breath, but Manwë pushes his hand forcefully forward and Morgoth falls to the floor.) 

Manwë: You are off your guard today, brother. (Keeps his hand out, as if he is trapping Morgoth to the floor. Morgoth struggles to rise.) I have had enough of your foolishness. Valar, remove the Silmarils from his crown and take him away! (He pauses as Maedhros whispers something to him.) Why should I grant a wish to you? Oh, all right. (Turns to Morgoth, who no longer has a crown.) You remember Maedhros? (Morgoth shoots a look at Maedhros.) He would speak with you. (Maedhros steps forward.) 

Maedhros: Many years ago, you hung me from the top of your dark tower. I lost my hand to you then. Now you will feel the same! (smiles slowly). The Great Lord Manwë has promised me to do the same to you. May that do you well! (turns to Manwë) Thank you, Great Lord. Long have I wanted to do that. (bows deeply.) 

Manwë: (To the other Valar.) Give me the Silmarils. (Maedhros's face lights up as he sees them, he had not noticed them before.) Take Morgoth and leave. (Valar exists. Manwë stares at the jewels in his hands and moves slowly to CR.) 

Maedhros: Great Lord... (bowing) I would remind you of my Oath. 

Manwë: Yes, Maedhros? (pause. Maedhros licks his lips nervously.) 

Maedhros: I need the Silmarils in my hand, or try as hard as I can to get them. Please, Great Lord, may I have the Silmarils? (We hear a sharp intake of breath from Maglor and Manwë.) 

Manwë: You ask much, Elf. I must refuse you. These jewels go to Valinor. 

Maedhros: But I must fulfill my Oath. (His voice has taken on a dangerous tone.) 

Manwë: You cannot have them. 

Maedhros: (takes a step forward.) Give them to me, Manwë. 

Manwë: (sounding slightly amused; he does not regard Maedhros as a threat.) No more "Great Lord?" No, Maedhros, you cannot have them. 

Maedhros: (Definitely growing angry, he stamps his foot.) I have more right to them than you! I need those jewels, and I will have them now! (takes a step toward Manwë.) 

Maglor: Maedhros! Stop it! You will be hurt! (Maedhros ignores his brother.) 

Manwë: Stay, Maedhros! I have no wish to hurt you, but the Silmarils are not for you. 

Maedhros: No, I will not stay. No one commands me, especially where the Silmarils are concerned. (He starts running towards Manwë, a growl rising in his throat. His face is distorted with hate, and yes, with fear. But suddenly Manwë moves his hand forward, palm out, and Maedhros' head jerks back as if he has been struck. Manwë moves his hand from left to right, swiftly, and Maedhros' head jerks again and he is sent spinning to the floor where he lies, unconscious. Maglor stares at Manwë with mixed horror and apprehension.) 

Maglor: (quavering voice, he sounds confused.) What was that magic you just worked? You killed him! (He rushes over to where his brother lies limply and tries to wake him.) Maedhros! Maedhros! 

Manwë: He is not dead, Maglor. That was not really magic, either; more of a creation. I simply solidified the air in front of Maedhros then guided it to hit him, though I think I have struck him too hard, certainly harder than I intended. (He walks over to Maedhros and kneels down. He places his hand on Maedhros's forehead.) He will live. I only meant to knock some sense into him. 

Maglor: I will admit, he does need that. I do not know what has gotten into him. Ever since the raids, he has been like this. Can you help him? 

Manwë: Only time can help him. (He rises.) Come. We cannot leave him here. Help me to carry him. (He reaches down and grabs Maedhros's wrists. Maglor, following suit, grabs his ankles, and they struggle off stage with him SR. Lights go out then come back on. Maglor and Maedhros enter. Maedhros is obviously angry, and trying to convince Maglor to go along with another plan. Maglor looks somewhere between wanting to hit Maedhros to knock him to his senses, and wanting to cry.) 


	16. The Theft in the Night

Maglor: You are crazy, Maedhros. To try to steal the Silmarils from under the noses of the Valar! They are not as important as all that. 

Maedhros: I swore to give my life if necessary to get the Silmarils, and so I will. Please, Maglor, help me in this! 

Maglor: I cannot help you here, Maedhros. I will not help my brother go to his death. (During this conversation they are walking slowly towards CC, and now they reach it, and stop.) 

Maedhros: I hope I will not die, Maglor. But the Oath will be fulfilled, and we may rest. Think of it: us, with the Silmarils, leading peaceful and prosperous lives, and Morgoth defeated. Do you not wish this? 

Maglor: (Pensively, as with a new idea.) Perhaps...if the Valar withhold them from us, the Oath may be voided and we shall be left in peace. Do you agree? 

Maedhros: (snorts and says scathingly.) Oh? If the Valar withhold the jewels, the Oath still binds us, yes, Maglor, us, to get them from whomever holds them. What difference does it make that the Valar tell us no; for then wouldn't anyone's refusal void it? Answer me that. 

Maglor: Because they are the Valar. 

Maedhros: And... (there is an uncomfortable pause.) Never mind. (his voice quiets.) I do not wish to meet the Everlasting Dark, much less pull it down upon myself. (he shivers.) And Manwë. We could have had the Silmarils, but they slipped through our hands again. (He walks a little bit away from Maglor.) You have no idea how scared I am of him. I try not to show it, but he knows. (His voice turns into a slight growl here.) And then he used that bit of devilry of his... (His voice trails off, he rubs the side of his head and winces.) I would like to show him that he is not everything. Help me, Maglor, for it must be done. The Valar, nay, Iluvatar himself could not void this Oath. 

Maglor: I still disagree, brother. (He turns away.) 

Maedhros: (offhand, as if this is of no importance.) You promised you would see me through to the end, Maglor.   
Maglor: (beginning to give in.) You would go with or without me? 

Maedhros: (Knowing he has won.) Yes. And if I go alone, both Silmarils go to me. 

Maglor: (with a sigh, he knows he should not give in.) I will come. 

Maedhros: (with a large grin.) Good! Come, let us prepare. (exits SL, followed by Maglor. Lights go out, then come back dimly. We see the Valar sleeping around a pedestal, on which the Silmarils glow. Maedhros and Maglor enter carefully, SR. They pick their way across to the pedestal, Maedhros first.) 

Maglor: This is too easy. I do not trust this. We should turn back! 

Maedhros: So close to our goal? Never. (He reaches the pedestal and carefully picks up a Silmaril. However, he no sooner touches it than drops it, and stifles a cry. Maglor darts over to him.) 

Maglor: (concerned.) What is the matter? Are you hurt? 

Maedhros: (Looking warily at the Silmaril, as if it might bite.) The Silmaril. It... it burns me. 

Maglor: Burns you? 

Maedhros: Yes, but it burns more than simply my skin... it burns deeper, somehow. 

Maglor: Varda! She hallowed them when they were first made, so they could not be touched by those with badness inside of them. 

Maedhros: (whirls on Maglor as if it is all his fault.) Curse Varda and her meddling! (Maglor's eyes grow wide; even his father never cursed a Vala.) We shall never have the Silmarils now! 

Maglor: You dare to curse a Vala? That, too, can bring the Dark upon you. 

Maedhros: Yes, I curse a Vala! I curse all the Valar that ever are! Manwë can touch the Silmarils, yet I cannot. It is not fair. (pauses.) Maglor, perhaps you can touch them. (His eyes widen, for he realizes what it will mean if Maglor can touch them and he cannot. He laughs bitterly.) I think you can, for you are not as evil as me. 

Maglor: (shocked, his brother has never called himself evil before. Also a bit exasperated that Maedhros is slipping into another wave of self-hatred.) You are not evil, Maedhros! 

Maedhros: (sardonically.) Me? Not evil? What am I, then? The raids of Eärendil's peaceful lands. Me, threatening you with my sword for a harmless comment. Attacking Manwë. And now, stealing the Silmarils. Tell me I am not evil. (gestures at the Silmarils.) All because of them. The Silmarils. 

Maglor: No brother. Troubled you are, but I do not see evil in you. You, and I too, have done great wrong, but... Maedhros! You are good. 

Maedhros: I think not. (Leans wistfully on the pedestal, but in doing so places his hand on a Silmaril. He leaps up, a yell nearly escaping his mouth, but Maglor, thinking quickly, places a hand on Maedhros's mouth. Maedhros draws a quick, hissing breath, and continues in a furious whisper.) I cannot escape these foul Silmarils! That does it. So be it. I will take these jewels away if it kills me! (He reaches swiftly out to grab them, winces and nearly cries out as his hand closes around them. His eyes widen noticeably, and his voice is strained as he speaks through clenched teeth.) Let us go, Maglor. Perhaps they will burn less outside of the camp. (He strides off, SL) 

Maglor: You really do not want to leave them? 

Maedhros: (From offstage.) No! (Maglor follows slowly. Lights grow brighter, to represent day. Valar begin to stir.) 

Manwë: We shall go to Valinor today! Yavanna, bring me the Silmarils. (Yavanna, obliging, goes to the pedestal and finds the Silmarils gone.) 

Yavanna: Great Lord, they are gone! 

Manwë: Gone? What do you mean, gone? 

Yavanna: Methinks Maedhros took them. Shall we send after him? 

Manwë: (pensively.) No... let him have them. I foretell they will not bring him much happiness or good. (The Valar, muttering among themselves, exit SR, but Manwë stays to say one last thing.) Maedhros, I warn you of this: you go to your doom! (exits. Maedhros and Maglor enter SL. Maedhros obviously still has the jewels in hand; he is gritting his teeth in pain. His voice when he talks, however, is less forced.) 

Maedhros: Would you like to have one Silmaril, Maglor? We are the two remaining Elves of the House of Fëanor; there are two Silmarils left. It is fitting. 

Maglor: (Sincere, he is concerned for his brother.) I will take them both, if you wish, brother. I would spare you the pain they cause you. 

Maedhros: (turns and shouts in Maglor's face.) You lie! You would just have all the Silmarils! (Maglor turns away, deeply hurt; we can see it on his face.) 

Maglor: I... I was... 

Maedhros: (softly, all hate gone from his voice; he sounds sad and sorry.) I know you do not mean to. You really do wish to help me, though I do not deserve it. (Maglor does not move.) Maglor? Maglor? (Still no response.) Oh, Maglor, I am so sorry. I do not think you would ever do that. (He sits slowly down. Maglor turns to him at last.) 

Maglor: (softly) I know you do not mean it. (Pulls Maedhros to his feet by his wrist.) 

Maedhros: I could not give them both to you; you, too, are not immune to their pain. We shall each have one. (He holds his clenched hand out, tries to open it, and looks surprised and a bit scared.) My hand, I... I cannot open it. 

Maglor: (looks at him strangely). What do you mean? 

Maedhros: My fingers will not move. Perhaps the Silmarils... 

Maglor: Let me help. (He grabs Maedhros' wrist and pries his hand open. When he sees the palm of Maedhros' hand, however, he gives a horrified gasp.) What have they done to you? (He turns the palm outward to the audience; we see it is burned black; it appears stiff and lifeless.) 

Maedhros: (looks down at his own hand and gives a start.) It hurt enough that the burn should be expected; but I had no idea there was actually a mark! 

Maglor: I shall still take them both if you wish it... 

Maedhros: No. I do not want you hurt. Take but one. (Maglor complies, gritting his teeth.) 

Maglor: You should get rid of these, Maedhros. They are not meant for us. 

Maedhros: Us... not meant to have them?! (He gives a short, barking laugh, without humor.) We are the sons of their creator; they are ours by birthright! 

Maglor: I doubt that. But let us go home now, and forget the Oath; it has been fulfilled. 

Maedhros: If we ride now, we can reach the March in a few days. Come on! (He strides off SL. Maglor follows. Light dims slightly.) 


	17. I Met O I Quenta Silmarillion

Maedhros: (Walks slowly and sadly on stage. He stares at the Silmaril on his palm, and does not look at the audience. His hand looks dead, and is in the same position as it was when Maglor pried it open. When he speaks, his voice is dead, too, but also full of sadness.) Even now, back at home, I am not at peace. I am in constant torment by the Silmaril I bear. Maglor, it seems, is not pained as badly by his jewel. (Only now does he look at the audience; his voice also gains more feeling.) But I will not get rid of this precious jewel. I will not! (His voice rises, then becomes soft.) It burns my hand. (He kneels on the floor, facing SR, not looking at the audience.) A hand I can ill afford to lose. (Shifts so he sits facing the audience. Starts to croon to his jewel.) But I love my jewel, my precious Silmaril. (His voice grows hard again.) I cannot bear the pain any longer! (Soft again.) I will never get rid of it, though. (Hard.) On the other hand... (he cuts off with a cry.) Ah! It burns ever hotter. I am done with this foul thing. If it makes me unable to hold a sword now, I will make it so I shall never hold a sword again! (He stands up.) I leave now! (Walks briskly off SL. Fire comes out and stands in the area between the stage and the audience. Maedhros comes out SR, slowly.) Finally, I have arrived at the cracks of fire. (Turns back to offstage and waves at something with his handless arm, as if shooing it.) Go on. You're a good horse. You'll find your way home. (Turns back to the audience and walks over to the very edge of the stage, where he stands looking down into the flames. He appears calm now.) It is fitting: a fiery grave for the son of Fëanor, whose name means spirit of fire. I leave Middle-Earth. (He attempts to close his hand around the Silmaril, but ends up having to close it by pushing it shut with the stump of his other arm. Then he leans forward and falls into the fire. Fire circles off, hiding Maedhros in their middle. All exit SL. They are replaced by Water, in the same space. Maglor enters SL, walking slowly along the edge of the stage, holding the Silmaril in a palm only slightly black.) 

Maglor: I have just received word that my brother Maedhros is dead, taking the Silmaril with him. These jewels have brought disaster on my family and I hate them for that! I defy my Oath and I shall cast my jewel into the sea! Take it, Lord of the Waters. May it bring you more joy than it did me. (One of the Water rises up, Maglor places the Silmaril in its hand, and it sinks back down.) Now let the Dark come down on me, for I broke the Oath and have rid myself of the jewel! I care not. (Iluvatar enters SR.) 

Iluvatar: You have suffered enough, Maglor. Your brothers are lost, and you have had enough sorrows already. The Dark shall pass you by. (Exits SR.)   
Maglor: I will return now to Elrond and Elros; they are the only ones I have left to care for on this world. May the bad fortune that follows me not touch them. (Takes two steps back; Maedhros comes out from SL to join him, Eärendil comes from SR. Water exists SR.) Thus the three Silmarils found their final homes... 

Eärendil: One in the heavens, borne upon my brow when I, Eärendil, sail my ship among the stars... (He touches a hand to the Silmaril on his forehead, and leaves it there.) 

Maedhros: (in his dead voice, flat and expressionless) One in the fires in the bowels of the earth, held to the last by me, Maedhros. (He displays his burned hand palm outward, fingers, which are slightly bent, pointed down. The Silmaril is held there.) 

Maglor: One in the deep waters, cast there by me, Maglor. 

All three: Here ends the Silmarillon. (Maglor and Eärendil exit SR, slowly. Maedhros looks fondly down at the jewel, clasps it protectively to him, and exits SL.) 


End file.
